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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155656">venn diagram</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/predebut/pseuds/permutative'>permutative (predebut)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Realities, Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, slight magical realism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:08:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>23,200</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155656</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/predebut/pseuds/permutative</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“If Jeno and I weren’t idols together, if we met in a different universe, do you think we’d still be friends?” Jaemin asks.  </p><p>“I don’t know,” Renjun says. “I mean, wouldn’t it depend on the circumstances?”</p><p><i>But that’s the problem,</i> Jaemin wants to scream. Because no matter what, no matter <i>which</i> world he wakes up in, he’s always in love with Jeno. </p><p>(or, Jaemin starts dreaming of alternate universes. Jeno is the one commonality between all of them.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>664</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. best thing i never had</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <span class="small">please suspend disbelief wrt realism/the amnt of privacy idols have/accuracy of dorm arrangements, i’m here for a good time not a real time...</span>
</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>a <a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/3MYWKl8ScgDu3sAvyneMCG?si=7i3DcKKFQ5G4IKiW2l8aVQ">venn diagram</a> is one circle / you grow up when you're not looking / we grow up but without knowing / and all of a sudden i'm leaving</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s been a bad day, Jaemin realizes. Not just a lack of a good day — he has long grown accustomed to unremarkable days of exhausting schedules passing by in the blink of an eye — but a decidedly terrible day. And this hasn’t been an isolated incident for Jaemin, either. It feels as though the past week has built up on him slowly, like being buried under sand at the beach; he feels ready to succumb to its weight.</p><p>The recording producer nods. “That’s a wrap for today, Jaemin-ssi,” he says, sounding slightly weary. No doubt the producer’s tired, especially after having to retake Jaemin’s lines so many times.</p><p>Jaemin bows in response, thanking him for his hard work. He resists the urge to clench his hands into fists, keeping his palms flat by his sides. His politeness shields him from everything else, practiced kindness protecting him against failure.</p><p>Speaking of things that have been lacking: Jaemin’s rapping, apparently. He thought he’d gained confidence in his delivery during the past two years, especially when promoting without Mark. Today brought him back to being eighteen again, after he’d returned from his hiatus: he had forgotten how to perform, how to enunciate properly.</p><p>Mark had stepped in today, helping correct his emphasis on certain lines. Jaemin’s thankful for that, to an extent, but the embarrassment still burns.</p><p>Jaemin sighs as he steps out of the studio. Only one person waits outside, now — the last person to record his lines.</p><p>“I’m done, Jeno,” Jaemin calls. The sight of him — soft, no makeup on or contacts in, the most comfortable type of Jeno — would normally calm him, but now it just weighs him down with frustration.</p><p>Jeno looks up from his phone and nods, getting up to walk into the recording studio.</p><p>Jaemin steps in front of him, blocking his path. “Jeno,” he says, internally wincing at the rawness in his voice. He’s too tired for much self-restraint, now. “How long will this go on for?”</p><p>For a moment they stand there, considering each other. Jaemin likes having nearly the same height as Jeno, but in steely-eyed confrontations such as this one, it becomes near unbearable. But Jaemin — Jaemin refuses to back down, even though Jeno's impassive stare serves as the most eye contact he's given Jaemin in the past month.</p><p>Jeno hesitates. “As long as it needs to,” he replies tersely. Then, gently shoving past Jaemin, he enters the recording studio and closes the door shut behind him.</p><p>Jaemin’s nails dig deep into his palms, fingers trembling with how tightly they’re tensed. In the empty hallway, silence rings in his ears. He slips a mask on and makes his way to the dorms, trying to make it back to the sanctity of his bedroom as fast as possible.</p><p>The dorm hums with people when he enters. Jaemin can hear the faint murmurs of Chenle and Jisung behind one door, someone plodding around in the bathroom — probably Mark, judging by the footfalls — and he’s pretty sure Donghyuck’s calling his mom in one of the other rooms.</p><p>It’s been a long day. A lonely day, even. Jaemin’s not used to feeling alone, not after years of sharing his living space with the other members, but it’s the right word for this evening. Jeno’s been avoiding him for weeks, quietly making sure the other members stay between the two of them at any possible moment. No more <em>Jaemin-ah, make me food, I’m hungry</em> in the mornings when they don’t have schedules, no more easy conversations when they sit together in the van. And it isn’t only Jeno, either. Even Jisung hadn’t been talking to him as much, lately, not after that time last week where Jaemin had confided briefly in his frustrations.</p><p>Jaemin doesn’t bother changing out of his clothes, merely shrugs off his winter coat and falls, face forward, onto his bed. Although he tries to prevent it, he can’t help but remember earlier today: Renjun shaking his head and telling him to <em>give it some time, Jaemin-ah</em>; Jisung cryptically promising him that <em>everything will be alright</em> yet ignoring his text messages later on; and Jeno directing his smile at everyone but him, clinging onto Mark instead.</p><p>Screwing his eyes shut and willing the day to melt away, Jaemin can’t help but wish he was anywhere but here, at that moment.</p><p>—</p><p>The sound of an alarm is the first thing Jaemin registers the next morning.</p><p>Immediately, a couple things don’t seem quite right: the noise comes from the left side of his bed, not the right; Jaemin hasn’t ever heard this alarm tone before; and it’s so early in the morning that his room looks pitch black. He doesn’t think about these things immediately, however, because of <em>the fucking alarm</em>. He fumbles around blindly for the source, finally grasping at his phone and turning the goddamn thing off. Then he realizes a couple of things:</p>
<ol>
<li>It’s 4:45 AM. Jaemin hasn’t woken up this early since the last comeback a couple months ago, and he didn’t really expect to be doing so anywhere near this time until things start ramping up in a week or two.</li>
<li>This isn’t his phone. It must be someone else’s phone or something, because the lock screen displays some cheesy quote he doesn’t recognize, and the shape of it in his hand feels completely different, and messages glow on the screen from names he doesn’t know. Jaemin squints at the contents of one — the message preview reads, <em>what did you get for p. 272 #66? i don’t understand these equations, help</em> — and then turns the phone off before he starts getting even more confused. Math is the <em>worst</em>.</li>
<li>His body is different, too. Jaemin can feel it: his stomach is softer, his neck and shoulders seem stiff instead of the usual phantom pains in his lower back or legs.</li>
</ol><p>He wonders, briefly, if he’s woken up in someone else’s body. It’s either that or some saesang managed to sneak through the security and kidnap him and… set an alarm for 4:45 AM? Jaemin shakes his head at himself. Somewhere, the logic fails him. Just lying there in the darkness, contemplating his life situation — after literally having one of the worst days on record — won’t fix what has already occurred. He’s learned that much over the past couple of weeks.</p><p>After a bit of banging around, Jaemin grapples for the light switch and flips it on. And… <em>well, fuck</em>. He takes in the pile of prep books on the nearby desk, a school uniform thrown messily over a chair. He’s obviously in the bedroom of some high school student.</p><p>He hesitates before looking at the uniform, a simple white shirt and navy pants that are worlds apart from the SOPA yellow jackets. It doesn’t take long for his suspicions to be confirmed: the name tag reads <em>Na Jaemin</em> in blocky hangul.</p><p>Jaemin wonders if he’s dreaming. There’s such a thing as lucid dreaming, right? Maybe this is all a stress-induced hallucination that he’ll snap out of when he wakes up, for real. Even so, this feels too real and oddly discomfiting for a dream.</p><p>He peers over at the other side of the room. There’s a mirror on top of the dresser, and he steps towards it cautiously, wondering what his mind will conjure up.</p><p>Honestly, he looks the same. Same nose, same eyes, same smile, even. Maybe a little shorter and a little softer around the edges, though, a look Jaemin hasn’t seen on himself since he was eighteen. Running a hand through his hair, he notices how smooth and soft it feels on his fingers, instead of slightly damaged and dry from all his dye jobs.</p><p>In the midst of these thoughts, his phone buzzes with a new notification.</p><p><b>from: jeno</b><br/>
Where are youuu we’re gonna be latee<br/>
Come onnn</p><p>Oh. In this dream, he and Jeno still talk to each other, still act like friends. Why waste the opportunity, then?</p><p><b>from: jeno</b><br/>
Jaemin!! :((</p><p>Jaemin grins to himself. They must be pretty close if Jeno’s messaging him so affectionately. That’s something Jaemin hasn’t been able to experience for a while, now, even before Jeno began ignoring him. Not wanting to make Jeno wait any longer, Jaemin scrambles into the uniform and shoves prep books into the backpack, wincing at the weight of it slung across his body. No wonder his shoulders had seemed so stiff.</p><p>He pauses at the hyeongwan for a second before leaving the apartment. This version of Jaemin has nowhere near as many shoes as he usually does, but at least he still has taste. He toes on the well-worn Air Force 1s happily, then steps out of the apartment.</p><p>—</p><p>Jeno’s waiting for him outside, a puffer jacket zipped over his uniform. Jaemin realizes, with a shiver, that he forgot to put on a coat in his haste to come outside.</p><p>“Hey,” Jeno greets, eyes crinkling into that familiar smile shape. The familiarity of it makes Jaemin’s heart ache, for a second. He misses his best friend.</p><p>Jeno takes him in for a second and frowns. “Why didn’t you bring a jacket?”</p><p>Jaemin shrugs. “Didn’t feel that cold,” he lies, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his slacks to help warm them up.</p><p>Jeno sighs, then takes his gloves off, handing them over to Jaemin. “Here, take this,” he says. “Let’s get going before we miss the subway.”</p><p>They set off at a brisk pace, Jaemin alternating between staring down at his hands — covered by Jeno’s soft gloves, which are still warm from residual body heat — and observing the neighborhood. It looks well-off, nicer than where his parents live, but he honestly wouldn’t know.</p><p>The subway is emptier than usual at such an early hour, the only passengers other tired-looking high school students, easily recognizable by their uniforms. As soon as they sit down, Jeno closes his eyes, pulling the jacket hood up over his head to block out the light. “Wake me up when we reach,” he mumbles.</p><p>Jaemin panics momentarily, eyes darting about the subway for any clue as to when to get off, but in doing so he makes brief eye contact with a girl who seems to recognize him. She nods at him politely and he tries his best to smile back, idol instincts faltering because ninety-percent of his brain fixates on Jeno’s head resting on his shoulder. The remaining ten-percent realizes that the girl wears the same school uniform as him and Jeno.</p><p>Okay, that’s a relief. He’ll get off the subway whenever the girl exits.</p><p>Jeno hums a bit, snuggling into Jaemin’s side. It’s really nice, how clingy and soft this Jeno is, Jaemin thinks. Even if it’s just in his sleep.</p><p>For the rest of the ride, Jaemin alternates between looking down at the gloves and staring at the top of Jeno’s hoodie, confused and thrilled by the warmth at his side.</p><p>—</p><p>After four hours at his desk, eyes glazing over as he sits through lessons, Jaemin concludes that there’s <em>no way in hell</em> that he’s still sleeping. Being in a dream implies that his subconscious has somehow stored all of this information. Staring at the differential equation they’re supposed to be working through, Jaemin knows he’s genuinely never encountered anything resembling this content before.</p><p>As much as his parents enjoy pretending that his GED exam actually means something substantial, he’s still a high school dropout, okay. And he went to SOPA, which isn’t exactly the bastion of academic rigor, either. Jaemin doesn’t remember much of his high school experience aside from sharing a desk with Jeno and half-assing his homework in between preparing for monthly trainee evaluations.</p><p>In some ways, things haven’t changed. After thirty minutes in the classroom, he had given up on trying to focus. Jaemin takes a second to glance over at Jeno, who’s taking detailed, neat notes as if his life depends on it. He supposes that for this Jeno, it might.</p><p>Jeno catches his eye and smiles. <em>Pay attention,</em> he mouths, before shaking his head ruefully and returning back to his work.</p><p>Yeah, right. Lunchtime serves as the only brief respite in Jaemin’s day. Jeno drags him outside to sit on one of the campus benches. The weather’s still cold, but he has Jeno’s gloves to help.</p><p>Jaemin can’t really follow most of the conversation. Jeno mentions classmates' names in a blur, then starts on complaining about some sociology prompt from last week. But regardless, he doesn’t mind, considering that this is the first real conversation he’s had with Jeno in a long while. He thinks he’s doing a good job of pretending he knows what’s going on, adding comments and nodding at the appropriate points, when Jeno abruptly stops talking.</p><p>“Hm?” Jaemin prompts.</p><p>Jeno frowns at him, brows scrunching together. “Are you okay?” he asks. “You seem… a little off, I don’t know.”</p><p>“I’m just a bit tired,” Jaemin lies easily. It should be believable enough, considering his heinous wakeup time.</p><p>“Do you have a fever?” Jeno leans forward, palm reaching up to rest across Jaemin’s forehead. He gazes at Jaemin intently, still concerned.</p><p>This Jeno really seems to enjoy touching him. Jaemin can’t tell if it’s because he’d gotten used to Jeno avoiding any form of physical contact over the past month, but he notices it much more than normal. It’s such a difference from Jeno’s normal closed-off passivity when Jaemin touches him in front of cameras.</p><p>Jaemin places his hand over Jeno’s, gently shifting it off his forehead. “I’m fine, seriously,” he insists. He suppresses a shiver when Jeno intertwines their fingers together. It isn’t even skin to skin contact, since Jaemin’s wearing the gloves, but it’s still — a lot. The feeling surges through his veins, giddy.</p><p>“Wow,” he says, unable to help himself. He grins at Jeno. “So much skinship today, hm?”</p><p>Is Jeno <em>blushing</em>? Jaemin watches as he bites down on his lower lip again, worrying it between his teeth.</p><p>“Well,” Jeno counters, a beat late, “you like it.” His cheeks are still a little pink and he’s avoiding looking at Jaemin directly.</p><p>Jaemin’s a little taken aback. He’s no stranger to teasing Jeno, but he’s accustomed to receiving an easygoing, indifferent smile in response, not <em>this</em>.</p><p>It must’ve been because of his lack of trainee experience, Jaemin decides. Enough years training at SM, and you’ll eventually build up an immunity to pretty faces and teasing words. Out here, in the real world, Jeno can still get wrecked by Jaemin’s killer fanservice.</p><p>“Let’s go back inside,” Jeno says, already getting up to leave. Jaemin follows, wondering just how much he can fluster this Jeno today.</p><p>—</p><p>The life of a high school student really is no joke, Jaemin reflects. It’s 10 PM when he leaves the hagwon, brain turned into a verifiable pile of mush from all of the <em>classes</em> and <em>studying</em>. Jeno seems unaffected, in contrast. He’s got the aglet from his hoodie in his mouth, and he’s walking close enough to Jaemin for their arms to brush together, occasionally, as they walk home.</p><p>Jeno’s the first to break their comfortable silence. “How’d the practice test go?” he asks, hoodie string slipping out of his mouth. “Do you feel better than earlier?”</p><p>Jaemin’s pretty sure he whiffed the exam. His only saving grace had been on the English section. Turns out that SM’s English tutoring combined with residual knowledge from My English Puberty had actually stuck in his brain, fortunately enough. “Kinda bad, honestly.”</p><p>He wonders if this is characteristic for this Jaemin. He’s never done well at school, but who knows? He never used to go to the hagwon to this extent, either. “I’m still a bit tired,” he adds, hoping it seems reasonable enough.</p><p>Jeno gives him a sympathetic smile. Right, he’s pretty decent at school. Jeno’s abilities must’ve blossomed without the distraction of trainee life. “Yeah, the math section was tricky.”</p><p>Jaemin ducks his head, kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk. He watches, briefly, as it skitters across the cement. Why is he so self-conscious about something as simple as a <em>smile</em> from this Jeno? It must be the way he looks at Jaemin, bright and innocent and naive, not yet the fully-formed adult Jaemin spends most of his time with.</p><p>“I can’t believe I do this every day,” Jaemin muses. Trainee life had its difficulties, but this level of academic rigor — attending a specialized high school, hours of yaja — is its own form of hell. Noting Jeno’s surprised expression, he hastily elaborates. “I mean — it’s just. Difficult.”</p><p>“Of course it is.” Jeno rolls his eyes at him, then quickly switches over to an earnest, pleading expression that’s hard for Jaemin to take his eyes off of. “But it’ll all be worth it in the end.”</p><p>“Will it?” Jaemin responds. This conversation reminds him of the countless nights he’d spent in the trainee dorms, wondering if the life he’d left behind — easy popularity at school, speed-skating afterward, unlimited possibilities ahead — would have served him better. Back then, Jeno would knock their shoulders together playfully, after bad monthly evaluations. <em>Don’t worry, Jaemin-ah,</em> he’d say. <em>We’ll make it past this.</em></p><p>Jeno fixes him a worried look. “Na Jaemin,” he begins, crossing his arms, “I didn’t tutor you in math for a <em>year</em> for you to give up now.”</p><p>Jaemin shifts uncomfortably. “Yeah, you’re right.” He wonders how on <em>earth</em> this Jaemin got so lucky to have Jeno as his best friend.</p><p>“I was worried, you know,” Jeno says. He’s looking down at the ground, clearly embarrassed. “When applying to all of the specialized high schools. I didn’t know if we could pass through, together.”</p><p>“But we did,” Jaemin points out.</p><p>“Yeah, we did,” Jeno agrees. He’s still crossing his arms, discomfort broadcasted like a lighthouse over a lake.</p><p>“Obviously doing well on the suneung is a lot harder, but.” Jeno pauses, here, looking up to regard Jaemin in that careful, caring way that makes him shiver despite himself. “We’ll make it through.”</p><p>“Besides,” Jeno adds, resolute, “if we don’t get into the same school, we could room together, or something. It’ll be okay, I promise.”</p><p>“Okay,” Jaemin replies hoarsely. “I’ll hold you to it, then, Jeno-yah.”</p><p>They continue walking in silence for a couple moments. If Jaemin doesn’t look too carefully, if he ignores the fact that <em>his</em> Jeno has a silver dye job and a bit more height, it would almost feel close to a normal day. For years they had kept up the routine of walking back to the dorms after a long day of practice. Now, they use the van to get shuttled to their separate schedules, and Jeno doesn’t look him in the eye for more than five seconds at a time.</p><p>“Jaemin-ah,” Jeno says. He tugs at Jaemin’s arm, breaking him out of his train of thought. Jeno peers around the street, and Jaemin follows the path of his eyes. At this late hour, the street’s pretty much deserted — they’re far enough from the hagwon that he doesn’t see fellow high schoolers around, either.</p><p>“What is it?” Jaemin asks. Jeno’s <em>looking</em> at him, again, in that same strange, intense way that he doesn’t quite know how to put a name to.</p><p>Jeno takes his hand, leading him into the alley between two buildings.</p><p>“What—” Jaemin breaks off as Jeno steps closer to him. He realizes, belatedly, that Jeno’s backing him up against the wall of one of the buildings. He realizes, belatedly, exactly what Jeno’s shining gaze had meant.</p><p>“I’ve been waiting to do this all day,” Jeno breathes, reaching up to cup the side of his face. Then his lips are on Jaemin’s, and <em>fuck</em>, it’s so much better than the shitty practice-kisses he’d exchanged with Donghyuck at sixteen, worlds apart from the placid pecks he’d shared with his first girlfriend. Jaemin opens his mouth up a bit, letting Jeno deepen the kiss. He thinks he can feel his heart ready to beat out of his chest, catatonic with excitement.</p><p>This can’t be Jeno’s first time kissing him. There’s just no way, Jaemin thinks hysterically. He lets out a soft sound as Jeno starts sucking gently against his neck, pressing kisses all the way down to his collarbones. Jaemin knows he should do something to stop it, probably. He thinks there’s something a bit <em>wrong,</em> or at least ethically dubious, about hallucinating making out with one of your best friends in an alternate universe, but —</p><p>Then it hits him with the force of a tsunami. The cuddling on the subway, the touchiness and hand-holding at lunchtime, the way Jeno had worked so hard to keep their futures together.</p><p>They’re more than best friends, in this world. They’re <em>dating</em>.</p><p>—</p><p>As Jaemin pants breathlessly, staring up at the ceiling, the first thing he does is check that he’s back in the dorms. The shock must’ve been enough to wake him up.</p><p>He reaches over to the right side of his bed, sighing in relief when he feels his phone. As he squints up at the screen, he realizes it’s been barely seven hours since he fell asleep in his bed. There isn’t anything in his notifications besides messages from the NCT Dream group chat, some memes that Chenle had found funny.</p><p>Jaemin places his hand on his chest and feels just how fast his heart’s beating. He takes slow, measured breaths, willing calmness and control that seems just out of reach, right now. It’s fine, everything just <em>fine</em>.</p><p>He tries to make sense of the past eighteen hours, imagines explaining it to Renjun: <em>I dreamed that I was back in high school, with Jeno, and we mostly just studied all day but we also made out at the end? And I kind of liked it?</em> Just thinking about it like that, laid out in clear details for someone else to parse out, makes Jaemin sound like he’s lost his mind.</p><p>Honestly, Jaemin’s worried over two problems. The first one is that he knows, intrinsically, that he couldn't have been dreaming. He had inhabited an alternate life, somehow.</p><p>The second — and arguably, much more concerning — issue is that he can’t get the thought of <em>kissing Jeno</em> out of his mind. He’s long since come to terms with his bisexuality — he can thank Lee Donghyuck’s reckless, hormone-driven actions for that one — but Jeno…</p><p>Jaemin spent the past several years burying any non-platonic inclinations towards Jeno deep into the earth. As an idol, he’s grown used to compartmentalizing his thoughts and keeping them locked away. Yet now he realizes his internal barriers were as flimsy as lines in the sand. This alternate life has washed away whatever had separated him from the truth.</p><p>He’s still too afraid to face the storm completely, just yet. Instead, he closes his eyes again, hoping that the days to come will fall over him gently like mist in the breeze.</p><p>—</p><p>When Jaemin wakes up from his second round of sleep and still finds himself in the same bed, he breathes out a sigh of relief. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this <em>grateful</em> to be exactly where he is right now — body, hair, and physical possessions exactly as he’s used to — especially with the dour moods he’s been having lately.</p><p>When he shuffles into the kitchen a couple minutes later, he’s greeted with the sight of Donghyuck eating some breakfast.</p><p>“Morning,” Jaemin says, walking past him to open up the fridge.</p><p>“G’morning,” Donghyuck echoes. He always sounds a little bit monotone in the mornings, before the caffeine kicks in.</p><p>Jaemin hesitates. There’s no one else around, and, honestly, Donghyuck’s so out of it that he probably won’t use this conversation to tease information out of it later. Donghyuck is probably the <em>last</em> person Jaemin wants to know about his feelings, but Jaemin still feels a little unhinged after last night.</p><p>“Say, Donghyuck,” Jaemin begins. “What do you think of lucid dreaming?”</p><p>Donghyuck gives him a blank stare. “What do I think.” He sighs. “Jaemin, you know I don’t <em>think</em> this early in the morning.”</p><p>Jaemin gives up on having a civilized conversation — why’d he try, honestly — and begins searching Naver, instead, because that’s a lot more trustworthy. He doesn’t spend a long time getting bogged down in the whole REM phase and science stuff. Again, he’s most definitely <em>not</em> the studious type, as that whole… out of body experience had shown him. But what little he understands leads him to the conclusion that, yeah, he definitely wasn’t lucid dreaming. Maybe it was some alternate universe? How is that even possible?</p><p>Lost in the search results page for multiverses, he doesn’t even register the sound of Jeno’s unmistakable footfalls — a little more hesitant and slow in the mornings — until it’s too late. Jaemin refuses to lift his eyes from his phone. He’s too afraid of what’ll come to mind as soon as he looks up and sees Jeno, but he can’t leave the kitchen without making it weird, either.</p><p>“Morning, Jeno-yah,” Donghyuck says, a little louder than normal.</p><p>“Hey,” Jeno says.</p><p>Jaemin instinctually looks up, and that’s his biggest mistake. Sure, this Jeno — <em>his</em> Jeno, as he’d so foolishly referred to him, as if Jeno had ever belonged to him — most definitely isn’t bashful, high-school-aged Jeno. This Jeno won’t blush if Jaemin stares at his lips too long; he’ll just ignore it.</p><p>After making brief eye contact with Jeno and greeting him with a tight nod, Jaemin makes an executive decision to leave the room. It’s just too much to be in the same room as Jeno right now, weirdness be damned. In one world, Jeno and him are <em>more</em> than friends, all of those unspoken, heartfelt things he’d known he would lose once he debuted as an idol. The privilege of having Jeno’s heart in his hands had been more precious than the million he’d received during his last vlive. In this world, Jaemin has everything — adoring fans, more shoes, and less math classes — yet these material possessions pale in comparison to Jeno’s ongoing silent treatment.</p><p>He ends up back in his room, defeated. For the rest of the day, Jaemin doesn’t bother trying to confront Jeno like he’d been attempting for the past week. If anything, he avoids Jeno even more than Jeno had done to him.</p><p>In a way, Jaemin’s logic is simple: if he ignores Jeno, then maybe he'll forget what he’s been trying to put away for so many years now. Feelings he’d never truly acknowledged, yet had remained waiting under the surface of his subconscious like a calm sea breeze before a typhoon hit.</p><p>He doesn’t know what to make of it. As Jaemin settles into bed, he hopes for a dreamless, restful sleep.</p><p>—</p><p>He wakes up to the sound of Jisung calling to him.</p><p>“Jaemin-hyung,” Jisung whispers. “Are you awake?”</p><p>“Hm, Jisung-ah?” Jaemin shifts around in his bed, and that’s when he notices that Jisung’s voice came from above him. <em>What the —</em> He squints around the room, straining as his eyes adjust to the darkness. They’re in bunk beds, he realizes. “What is it?”</p><p>“I hope we’re on the same team,” Jisung says, drowsily.</p><p>Jaemin has no clue what Jisung’s talking about, but his heart stirs a little at Jisung’s words. Sweet, earnest, Jisung. It’s good that they’re still friends in whatever world he’s gotten himself into this time.</p><p>“Me too,” Jaemin says. He begins to internally account for the differences in his body, tensing and unclenching his muscles, but honestly, he feels mostly the same. There’s a little bit of soreness, but it’s the type that he’s used to experiencing after hours of dance practice. Jaemin’s pulse quickens. Is he still a trainee? He hasn’t had to sleep in a bunk bed for years.</p><p>“Let’s win together, hyung.” Jisung mumbles, jolting Jaemin out of that train of thought. He wonders what exactly they’re supposed to be winning. “Good night.”</p><p>“Good night, Jisung-ah.” He tries to fall back asleep, hoping it’ll take him back to the dorms, but it’s a lost cause. Jaemin stares up at the bottom of Jisung’s bunk instead, hoping that he isn’t too out of his depth for the rest of the day.</p><p>—</p><p>Jaemin catches on to where he is pretty quickly once Jisung, him, and the other trainees begin eating breakfast together in the cafeteria. The color-coded sweatshirts, their names printed on the fronts of their sweatshirts to be easily identified, the sheer <em>number</em> of teenage boys in one dining hall — somehow, he’s landed in the midst of a fucking survival show. Not just any survival show, either; with the scope of it, the show <em>has</em> to be Produce 101, there’s no other way.</p><p>Jaemin’s always wondered how SM trainees would fare against other companies on survival shows. He’d been able to at least get a taste of it secondhand when Mark appeared on <em>High School Rapper</em>, but Mark hadn’t even been competing against real idols then, most contestants just regular high school students.</p><p>But it’s different here. Looking around the room, Jaemin surveys the vacant prettiness and desperation on everyone’s faces. He recognizes these boys as kin. He’s a few years removed from the trainee life, sure, but an idol never forgets.</p><p>It isn’t just Jisung that’s with him here, Jaemin realizes.</p><p>“Oh my god,” he hisses under his breath. He spots Jeno sitting with Donghyuck at one table, and thinks he catches glimpses of Chenle and Renjun in the corner of his eyesight, too.</p><p>“You doing alright, hyung?” Jisung pats his shoulder. He follows the direction of Jaemin’s stare then lets out a sigh. “I thought you and Jeno would’ve stopped feuding by now. Ugh, Fantagio trainees.”</p><p>“<em>Feuding?</em>” Jaemin asks incredulously. Sure enough, when Jeno finally notices the two of them observing him, he returns their looks with an impassive glare. For someone as placid and easygoing as Jeno, that might as well have been a declaration of war. Jaemin wonders what agency he’s a part of, and why it isn’t the same one as Jeno’s. Then he realizes that it’s still written on his and Jisung’s name signs: <em>SM Entertainment</em>.</p><p>“Yeah,” Jisung says. He’s crossing his arms and making a face back at Jeno, which is <em>definitely</em> bad form. “You beat him fair and square in the dance evaluation, after all.”</p><p>“Stop glaring at him, Jisung-ah,” Jaemin admonishes gently, wondering if Jisung would get voted off a survival show without his hyungs to protect him. Jaemin’s heard enough about survival shows to know that evil editing could lead to disastrous consequences. It’s better to not create opportunities for the producers to prey on their weaknesses like that.</p><p>“But hyung,” Jisung pouts at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Jeno walking over. “We’re <em>so</em> going to beat him in the next challenge, okay?”</p><p>“Beat who?” Jeno asks, causing Jisung to startle in surprise. He smiles at Jisung, cold and polite. Jisung flushes under his gaze. Once he’s satisfied with that reaction, he fixes his attention on Jaemin instead.</p><p>Jeno doesn’t seem much different, really. He has more piercings than normal, but his hair’s dyed this natural dark brown color that Jaemin has seen on Jeno a countless number of times before. Jeno’s smile might be the biggest change: it’s colder, sharpened with a competitive edge. Jaemin guesses he’s saving his true charms for when it really counts: in front of an audience, when the cameras are focused on him at the center.</p><p>“I can’t wait to see which team you’re on for the concept challenge,” Jeno continues, stepping forward. “Jaemin-ssi.”</p><p>Jaemin isn’t going to lie, it <em>stings</em> hearing Jeno call him that. They’ve always spoken to each other casually, a result of entering SM within an hour of each other as trainees. Sometimes well-placed politeness can hurt as much as a barbed insult. Are they really <em>strangers</em> in this world? He hesitates, then decides to take a risk.</p><p>“I thought we were closer than that.” Jaemin pouts at Jeno, heart pounding. For his own sake, he hopes that they actually <em>are</em> closer than that, so that the next words coming out of his mouth don’t sound so ludicrous: “We’re the same age, so we can speak casually to each other, right?”</p><p>Jisung’s mouth gapes open like a fish. Jeno’s eyes widen, too. Clearly, whatever he’d been gearing up to respond to, this hadn’t been it.</p><p>Jeno narrows his eyes. “Stop trying to act like we’re friends.”</p><p>Clearly, this Jeno doesn’t trust Jaemin as far as he can throw him. Jaemin shouldn’t hold it against him too much. He supposes that filming a cutthroat survival show could do a number on one’s psyche. But, like the honorifics, it reminds him of how little they know each other, here.</p><p>Jaemin crosses his arms, sends Jeno a light smile. “I’m not acting, I’m just <em>friendly</em>.” Regardless, it <em>is</em> fun seeing just how much he can tease Jeno.</p><p>All of a sudden, Jeno’s face turns completely blank. “Alright,” he says placidly. He steps closer, clapping Jaemin on the back, and at the same time he whispers in Jaemin’s ear: “Don’t think that just because of that one time, I’ll go easy on you.”</p><p>Right. Jisung had mentioned that Jaemin bested Jeno during some previous evaluation. “Of course not,” he replies lightly, heart racing at just how <em>close</em> Jeno’s lips are to his ear. He has to get out of here before Jeno fights him (deadly, probably) or <em>Jeno</em> kisses him (fatal, most definitely). “See you around, okay?”</p><p>He turns around and grabs Jisung’s wrist to leave, not wanting to push things to a breaking point quite yet.</p><p>Jaemin remembers being a trainee, nerves wrung raw and emotions on high. He had constantly battled between exhaustion and hope, between sweat-filled dreams and returning to a normal life. Back then, he felt like a fuse ready to spark.</p><p>—</p><p>The day Jaemin had been informed of his debut, he’d walked out of the meeting with SM’s executives feeling dazed. On the walk back to the dorms, all seven of them were quiet. Jaemin stared at his feet, mostly, but every once in a while he’d catch Jeno’s eye and send him a quick smile. He had <em>made it.</em> Both of them had made it, would be debuting together. It felt surreal, as floaty as a sunlit daydream despite the night’s darkness.</p><p>“I still can’t believe it,” Jaemin had whispered to Donghyuck, later, after their first dance practice together with all seven of them. Sure, they’d rehearsed together for Mickey Mouse Club, SM Rookies too, but it was different with Chenle and Renjun. It was different with <em>their</em> song and <em>their</em> voices on it, no matter how saccharine the concept.</p><p>Donghyuck bit his lip, pensive. He watched as Mark ruffled Jisung’s hair across the room.</p><p>“We’re so young,” Donghyuck said, suddenly. “I didn’t notice it before, practicing with the 127 hyungs, but —” he paused. “Isn’t it kinda crazy? There’s no chance at a normal life, after this.”</p><p>“As if we’d been <em>normal</em> before,” Jaemin argued, taking a sip from his water bottle. He knew, better than most, the cost of what he had given up: not just a mundane existence, shuttled between hagwon and school like most students, but competing as a nationally ranked speed skater. He had a chance at Worlds, maybe Olympics if he’d really worked at it.</p><p>Donghyuck had deflated at that. “You’re right.” He frowns. “Still, there’s things we’ll miss out on, even compared to the hyungs. You know Johnny-hyung had a <em>girlfriend</em> in high school, right? And even Doyoung-hyung had been part of that rock band.”</p><p>“So you’re saying being in a <em>band</em> is what you’re missing from your high school experience?” Jaemin observed the other side of the room intently. In one corner, Jeno and Renjun talked to each other softly, Renjun nodding his head vigorously as Jeno laughed.</p><p>“No, dumbass.” Donghyuck snorted. “I just want a first kiss. Even <em>Mark’s</em> had one, did you know?” He was making that face again, that look of reckless competitiveness that he reserved solely for Mark Lee.</p><p>Jaemin shrugged. He’d never thought about when he’d have his first kiss, just figured it would occur naturally after he found himself in a relationship. Donghyuck made a good point, though: it’s unlikely he’d date anyone any time soon. Perhaps Jaemin was cursed to not know what kissing was actually like until he was, like, twenty-five years old or something. As he watched Jeno and Renjun, he wondered, briefly, if either of them had had their first kiss yet either. Jeno would have told him, right? He wasn’t sure about Renjun —</p><p>“Jaemin, are you listening?” Donghyuck asked, exasperated.</p><p>“Huh?” Jaemin blinked at him.</p><p>“Wanna try kissing some time?”</p><p>—</p><p>It turns out that Jisung’s dreams of beating Jeno again are put to dust when all three of them are sorted into the same concept evaluation group. They’re with a couple of others that he vaguely recognizes from other idol groups, like TXT’s Yeonjun and Stray Kids’ Felix.</p><p>Jaemin makes sure not to reveal any outward emotion when he realizes Jeno’s on the same team as him, but he still makes the rookie mistake of searching out Jeno’s reaction in the first place. He wonders if the directors will pan from Jaemin’s searching stare to Jeno’s empty, placid smile and then conclude that he’s out for Jeno’s blood.</p><p>Honestly, considering how their initial rehearsal goes as a team, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch. They just can’t stop butting heads — whether it’s over choosing the center (the position ends up going to Yeonjun-hyung), or Jaemin messing up the choreography, or Jeno dancing slightly out of sync.</p><p>It’s late, too late, when Yeonjun-hyung finally calls their practice to an end. The camera crew has long since left, and for a second it feels all too familiar. Seven boys, sweat-singed and all the more stronger for it, working towards that elusive debut.</p><p>Except these boys aren’t <em>Jaemin’s</em> boys. Even this Jisung and this Jeno aren’t the same, of course they aren’t, because how could any one of the seven members of NCT Dream be the same without having grown up alongside one another? Even <em>this</em> Jaemin’s body, molded and strained towards idolhood, stretched to near-breaking, still feels foreign. If Jaemin thinks about it too long, he thinks he might scream, might break from the oddness of it.</p><p>He vaguely registers the sound of the others leaving the practice room. He counts their footsteps as they leave: <em>one, two, three…</em> Jisung pauses at the door, staring at Jaemin expectantly, but Jaemin waves him off. Soon enough, it’s just him and Jeno, alone.</p><p>“Let’s run through it again,” Jeno says. His hands are clenched into fists at his side — restrained power, violence paused, like holding back a tsunami. He’s so determined and desperate that it damages Jaemin’s heart. “We were the ones messing up the most, come on.”</p><p>They run through the chorus again. Then again, then again, until Jaemin feels like the movements have been forged into his muscles. Jeno moves to replay the song another time, but Jaemin grabs his forearm.</p><p>“Enough,” Jaemin says quietly. “You should rest, Jeno-yah.” He realizes his mistake as soon as the casual form of address leaves his mouth.</p><p>Jeno wrests his arm out of Jaemin’s grip, eyes flashing with anger. “I really can’t stand you,” Jeno bites out, stepping closer. “You’ve been getting on my nerves the whole day.”</p><p>It’s perhaps the first display of genuine emotion Jeno showcased today. They spent hours in front of the cameras, and he’d hid his annoyance under frosty politeness. Jeno had wanted to keep his distance, and Jaemin is the exact opposite — he’d like to keep wading in and getting closer, even if he risks drowning.</p><p>“Oh, really?” Jaemin counters. He realizes, suddenly, that Jeno’s backing him up against the mirror. Jaemin swallows. He wonders what it would take to push Jeno to the edge. “At least I’m not <em>hiding</em>, I’m not <em>this</em> fake —”</p><p>Jeno shoves him against the wall. “You don’t <em>know</em> me,” he seethes.</p><p>“Yeah, you’re right.” Jaemin shrugs, earnest. He’s got at least a year or two on this Jeno age wise, and a couple more of actual idol experience to top that off. He knows that his greatest weapon is the truth. “But I know that you aren’t like <em>this</em>.”</p><p>“Then what am I like?”</p><p>“You’re nice,” Jaemin blurts out. He takes a breath. “And sweet, and pretty funny, and—” his gaze dips to Jeno’s arms, raking over the rest of his body— “really strong, too.”</p><p>Jeno hesitates. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” He tries glaring, too, but gives up after a couple of seconds. Jaemin grins at him.</p><p>“You didn’t have to be so <em>honest</em>,” Jeno mutters underneath his breath. This close, Jaemin can hear every word out of his mouth.</p><p>Jaemin eyes him, kind of amused by the whole situation. It would be scarier, maybe, if both of them weren’t in scrawny nineteen-year-old bodies, and if both of them weren’t absolutely exhausted from practicing all day. “Is it just, like, your thing to shove me up against walls?”</p><p>The situation’s so similar to last night, but the circumstances couldn’t be more different. It’s scary, really, how close <em>competition</em> and <em>rivalry</em> can resemble bashful crushes and schoolboy love.</p><p>Jeno’s cheeks flood with color, and Jaemin can feel his grip on Jaemin’s shoulders faltering. “Last — last time it was you shoving me, anyway.”</p><p>Jaemin frowns. He doesn’t like the idea of starting a physical altercation with Jeno, not in any universe. “We should stop fighting, then,” he says. “And <em>please</em>, just — be yourself. Don’t be a stranger.”</p><p>Jeno nods. “Then,” he says in a low undertone, looking at Jaemin from beneath his long eyelashes, “if we aren’t strangers…”</p><p>Jeno leans in slowly, ready to close the scant distance between them. Jaemin stops him before he can, though, palm to cheek. Jaemin doesn’t think he’ll be able to look his Jeno in the eye again if he keeps making out with other versions of him in alternate universes.</p><p>“Jeno-yah,” Jaemin breathes, fingers brushing over Jeno’s jawline, thumb smoothing over his eyebrow. Somehow this prolonged closeness — shared body heat and intermingling breaths — feels more intimate without any physicality as an underlying excuse.</p><p>“Jeno-yah,” Jaemin repeats. Jeno’s got his eyes closed, leaning into his touch. “If we aren’t strangers, then let’s be friends.”</p><p>Jeno opens his mouth to reply —</p><p>— but before Jaemin can hear Jeno’s answer, he wakes up.</p><p>—</p><p>“Just talk to him,” Renjun says, crossing his arms. “How hard is that?”</p><p>Jaemin pauses from where he’s been pacing back and forth in Renjun’s room. “Do you know why he’s been avoiding me?” he asks, not for the first time.</p><p>“Not really.” Renjun looks away, avoiding eye contact. “It isn’t like this is the first time you two have disagreed, though,” he continues smoothly.</p><p>Jaemin frowns, thinking over the past couple of years. They’d always been close as trainees, quick to make up if they squabbled over some minor detail. “What do you mean?” he asks. “I don’t think Jeno’s been like this, <em>ever.</em>”</p><p>Renjun looks at him strangely, then shakes his head. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter — just try to sort it out soon, okay?”</p><p>“Yeah, I know.” Jaemin doesn’t know what would happen if it started affecting their dynamic visibly, during a comeback. He knows part of his popularity stems from his mutualistic, affectionate friendship with Jeno. Even at a more basic level, Jaemin has begun to tire out more easily, prone to sleeping early instead of spending more time with the members. The emotional stress has sapped him of energy, just when they’ve started learning new choreography for their comeback.</p><p>It won’t be long before their activities ramp up again, before they'll be constantly in front of the cameras; Jaemin needs to get it together.</p><p>—</p><p>Jaemin hadn’t wanted to bring it up with Renjun, but he <em>does</em> remember one time that Jeno gave him the cold shoulder for a while. He’d been sixteen, in the midst of preparing for his first comeback with NCT Dream.</p><p>They were both wearing the peter-pan collared blue tops meant to emphasize their youthful image, but Jaemin had been solely considering Jeno’s face. Pubescent acne hidden under layers of concealer and foundation, hair carefully combed and parted, natural-looking lipstick that looked still too pink to be real: this was how they had made an idol out of a boy.</p><p>“You look so much older with makeup on,” Jaemin told Jeno. He wasn't sure whether he meant it as a compliment or not. </p><p>Jeno had remained silent, the way he’d been doing for the past couple of days.</p><p>Jaemin sighed. “We’re going to be filming a scene together, next,” he pointed out, the underlying message being <em>Please don’t be mad in front of cameras, why are we still fighting, please?</em></p><p>Jeno shrugged. “I was a child actor,” he said impassively.</p><p>Jaemin couldn’t help but let out a snort at that. “Okay, Jeno-yah,” he replied, patting Jeno on the shoulder.</p><p>Jeno eventually cracked after they finished filming the music video.</p><p>“Are you sure you won’t tell me what’s wrong?” Jaemin had asked him once they were back in the dorms. They sat side by side on Jeno’s bed, knees not quite close enough to knock together. “I’m your best friend, you can tell me anything —”</p><p>“Then why didn’t <em>you</em> tell me,” Jeno interrupted. He frowned down at his lap. “I saw you and Donghyuck the other day.”</p><p>“Oh, that,” Jaemin said weakly. He looked at Jeno out of the corner of his eye, feeling absolutely mortified. Jeno must have seen him <em>kissing</em> Donghyuck, then. No wonder Jeno had been unable to look him in the eye for the past couple of days. Jaemin felt unbearably guilty, all of a sudden, and more than that, <em>scared</em>. “You’re not mad at me, for — for kissing him, right?”</p><p>Jeno turned his face away from Jaemin, staring at the wall instead. “Why would I be mad?” Jeno said, voice rough. “I just thought since we were best friends, you’d tell me if you were —” he paused, here — “dating Donghyuck, is all.”</p><p>“It’s not what you think,” Jaemin protested. “I’m not <em>dating</em> — Jeno, I’m not even <em>attracted</em> to Donghyuck like that, not really.”</p><p>“Then what was it?” Jeno said, quiet.</p><p>“It was just practice, you know.” Jaemin fidgeted uncomfortably, tapping his fingers against the bedspread. “Donghyuck was worried he’d have to wait another decade before getting his first kiss.”</p><p>“And you just agreed to it?” Jeno raised his eyebrows. “Like that?”</p><p>“It was my first time too, Jeno,” Jaemin said calmly, watching as Jeno’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t sure why Jeno looks so surprised, it’s not as if Jaemin had been out there sweeping girls off their feet on a daily basis or anything.</p><p>“You could have asked me, though.” Here, Jeno smirked, and Jaemin was hit with full force by his glittering eyes. “Since I actually have experience with it.”</p><p>“Yah,” Jaemin protested, shoving Jeno’s shoulder. “That’s not the point.” What Jaemin really wanted to say was something far more embarrassing, something along the lines of, <em>you’re too important to kiss for practice,</em> which sounded overly sappy and vulnerable. But it was the truth, weirdly enough. If he ever did get to kiss Jeno, he wouldn’t want to under the basis of figuring out his sexuality, everything powered by teenage hormones. He’d want it to be special, something Jeno couldn’t compare to anyone else.</p><p>That, he started realizing, was bound to be a problem later on. So he hid the seeds of those thoughts in his subconscious and prayed they wouldn’t take root in his mind.</p><p>“Alright, whatever.” Jeno shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”</p><p>“Are — are we good now?” Jaemin asked. Reflecting on the topic for too long started to make him anxious.</p><p>“Sure.” Jeno looked at him carefully for a moment, then hesitated. “Actually, one thing — you aren’t going to keep kissing him, right?”</p><p>“No, no,” Jaemin said, crossing his arms into an x shape for emphasis. “Seriously, it was just a one time thing. I wish you didn’t see it.”</p><p>Jeno seemed much more relieved after that, shoulders relaxing. He mumbled something under his breath that Jaemin couldn’t exactly catch, something along the lines of <em>wish I didn’t see it either.</em></p><p>Jaemin tackled him into a side-hug, making sure to rest his chin on Jeno’s shoulder. “I’m glad we’re okay now,” Jaemin said softly. “Don’t ignore me, Jeno-yah.”</p><p>“Of course not.” Jeno returned his smile easily, in that moment.</p><p>—</p><p>Jaemin sighs. He isn’t a teenager anymore. He doesn’t walk along that tightrope of high emotions and near instability anymore, but resolving things feels <em>more</em> difficult now, not less. Chewing Gum sometimes seems like it happened to a different person, a different Jaemin — the Jaemin of <em>before</em>. It’s amusing that he once thought reaching his twenties would make him more wise, more sure of how to navigate every situation. Instead, Jaemin feels as if he’s on the precipice of some decision he isn’t sure how to make, watching waves crash violently on the rocks below.</p><p>Jaemin’s towelling off his hair as he thinks about this, wrinkling his nose at how his sleep shirt sticks unpleasantly to his shower-damp skin. He needs to figure his shit out, or something. Instead, his mind swirls with thoughts of high school Jeno and angry trainee Jeno and <em>his</em> Jeno. All of them are so different but retain that same magnetic quality that draws Jaemin in no matter what, like the moon controlling the tides.</p><p>“Jaemin-ah,” Mark calls, right outside of his room. “You in there?”</p><p>“Yeah, Mark-hyung,” Jaemin replies, opening the door. “What’s up?”</p><p>Mark’s got this look on his face that’s unique to leaders — like he’s about to deliver <em>really</em> bad news and doesn’t want to, but he has an obligation to do so. In short, he looks a little constipated.</p><p>“Is everything okay?” Jaemin prompts, raising his eyebrows.</p><p>“Management wants you to film a tiktok with Jeno tomorrow,” Mark says finally, schooling his features into something resolute and serious. “For Red Velvet’s comeback.”</p><p>Jaemin closes his eyes, trying to reign in the warring emotions of relief — he’ll have to talk to Jeno! — and panic — oh no, he’ll have to talk to <em>Jeno.</em></p><p>“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Jaemin asks.</p><p>“It’s coming from management, doesn’t matter whether it’s a good idea or not.” Mark sighs, crossing his arms. “Look, I know you two haven’t been getting along, but can you at least try and sort it out before we start promotions?”</p><p>Jaemin narrows his eyes. “Hyung, you’re making it sound like it’s all my fault,” he says, pouting for good measure.</p><p>“Believe me, Jeno heard worse.” Mark gives him a tentative half-smile for his efforts, a little beacon of hope. “You good with filming it tomorrow?”</p><p>“Okay,” Jaemin agrees, feeling mollified. Even he isn’t immune to Mark’s peace-making charms. “Fine, tomorrow.”</p><p>He heads back inside his room, hanging the towel on his chair and flopping down onto his bed. He’ll need the rest, if he’s gearing up for a confrontation between Jeno and him. And, well, Jaemin hates to admit it, but he’s excited for when he wakes up, regardless of whether he’ll be right where he expects or somewhere new.</p><p>—</p><p>Immediately, Jaemin knows there’s something different from the past two times he woke up in an alternate world. It isn’t just the fact that he slept in, although he relishes the fact that the sun’s actually shining outside his goddamn window before he wakes. It isn’t his body, either, although he certainly seems a little… broader than usual. Jaemin feels weird looking down at his body, considering it isn’t exactly <em>his</em>, but the other Jaemin decided to go to sleep shirtless.</p><p>It's quiet. The apartment is so silent that it nearly rings in his ears, a phantom buzzing sound that feels more overwhelming the more he focuses on it. While Jaemin gets out of bed, he deliberately shifts around in the covers more than usual just to hear <em>something</em>. He likes being alone, sure, but even spending time by himself in the dorms meant he could listen to the ambient noises of other people going on with their day. Here, there’s nothing.</p><p>The bedroom is pretty impressive. It’s at least twice the size of his childhood room, the king-sized bed expansive and soft and the matching furniture done in a tasteful mahogany. Jaemin takes a look at the closet to find a shirt to wear, and he’s in awe of how many choices there are. As he flips through the clothes, he idly wonders what type of job would lead to this much wealth.</p><p>Jaemin feels a little off balance and out of the loop. During the past two lives he’d visited, he’d been able to quickly catch on because he’d experienced something like it before: high school, training to be an idol. He’s never lived in his own swanky apartment before, though. Not all alone like this. It’s kind of cool, in a way, but still — something feels <em>off</em>. As Jaemin treads through the apartment, he can’t help but feel a prickling sense of discomfort.</p><p>The furniture and decorations look like something out of a TV set, disturbingly aloof and perfectly matching. It’s like no one has ever lived here, really, that’s how untouched most of the rooms look.</p><p>Then, Jaemin reaches the kitchen. Two things stand out to him: first, the empty soju cans and beer bottles on the counter, and second, a phone lying on the floor, glowing with a notification despite the cracks on the screen.</p><p><b>from: Manager</b><br/>
Coming to pick you up in fifteen. Don’t be late, please.</p><p>As Jaemin picks the phone up, it buzzes with another message:</p><p><b>from: Manager</b><br/>
And please, make sure you look presentable before you leave the house.</p><p>Jaemin wrinkles his nose at the screen. What kind of person <em>is</em> this Jaemin?</p><p>—</p><p>“You look ready for the photoshoot,” his manager comments, once they’re both in the car and he’s driving towards their destination.</p><p>Jaemin shrugs. All he had done was take a quick shower and comb his wet hair, too flummoxed by the vast array of beauty products to do much to style it. “Why wouldn’t I be ready?” he replies, trying to project the confidence he’s sure this older version of himself has. He wonders what he does now, for real. Is he a singer? Actor? Variety show host? Must be something in the entertainment industry, if he has such a nice apartment and he’s heading towards a photoshoot.</p><p>“Do you not remember last week?” His manager sighs. “When I told you you’d be doing this shoot, you refused to return my calls for the next three days.”</p><p>Jaemin frowns. This older version of himself seems like a spoiled brat, for sure. He’d hoped the success wouldn’t have gone to his head; it certainly never did whenever he accomplished things alongside the NCT Dream members. Instead, the others motivated him to keep pushing himself, to keep striving to be the best idol he could.</p><p>“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Although his manager is the one driving, he keeps turning back around to look at Jaemin’s face worriedly. “I know it’s hard, seeing your ex-group member, but—”</p><p>Jaemin’s blood runs cold. “<em>Ex-group member?</em>” he stammers out. Did someone sue SM for mistreatment? Have their contracts expired already? There’s no way. He isn’t <em>that</em> old, right?</p><p>Who would leave NCT prematurely? Jaemin closes his eyes, running through the roster of members and thinking of anyone who’d have a reason to leave. But no matter how many names he repeats to himself, the image of his apartment from earlier this morning — the gaudy emptiness, the drunken mess in the kitchen — already tells him more than he needs to know.</p><p>“Jeno’s his name, right?” his manager continues, not able to tell that Jaemin’s currently freaking the fuck out right now.</p><p>Jaemin wets his lips, throat dry. “Yeah,” he ventures a guess, because he can’t imagine anyone else inciting such a strong response in any version of Jaemin. “We’re close.”</p><p>At that, his manager gives him a strange look. “When you got drunk at the last movie premiere, you started crying about how you two haven't talked for years.”</p><p>Jaemin closes his eyes and draws in a deep, shuddering breath. As if this couldn’t get any worse. “I mean, we were close,” he corrects. The past tense just sounds <em>wrong.</em></p><p>They remain in silence for the rest of the car ride. Jaemin passes the time by scrolling through his phone — unlocking had been simple, considering that the passcode was just his own birthday — but hesitates before opening katalk. He feels like he’s violating the other Jaemin’s privacy, just a little bit.</p><p>He takes a look at the people he’s contacted most recently: his parents, a couple days ago, and some family friends he recognizes the names of, from a couple weeks ago, and a couple of unrecognizable girls’ names that haven’t messaged within the past week or so. No one from NCT is here, besides one message from Renjun — it reads <em>are you doing okay?</em> — that the other Jaemin left on read fifteen days ago.</p><p>It’s clear he doesn’t have many close friends; no one’s names are saved with emojis or nicknames, nothing like the contacts list Jaemin has on his real phone. Maybe it’s because he had grown out of it, though, he justifies to himself.</p><p>The more he learns about this Jaemin, the more he fears exactly what he’s capable of, exactly what he might <em>become</em> in the future.</p><p>After a while, his manager pulls to a stop in front of the studio. “Alright, we’re here,” he announces.</p><p>“Oh, and by the way,” his manager calls out as Jaemin exits the car, “make sure to congratulate Jeno-ssi on his engagement.”</p><p>Jaemin trips over himself and barely manages to avoid eating shit on the pavement, holding onto the side of the car just in time.</p><p>He doesn’t think it can get much worse than this.</p><p>—</p><p>Jaemin sits still as he gets his hair and makeup done, still thinking. He forgets to turn up his charm for the makeup artists, just staring blank into space and offering polite nods — the bare minimum, for someone like him — as they make him more perfect, more beautiful.</p><p>It isn’t like Jaemin has given it much thought, getting married. He’s twenty-one, after all. Given the way his career’s panning out, it’s likely he’ll get married in his thirties at the earliest. And it’s not like he’s completely put off by the idea of Jeno getting married to some beautiful woman and living a charmed life with two perfect, photogenic babies who all have Jeno’s smile, either. He wants — tries to want, at least — to support whatever brings Jeno the most happiness, regardless of his own feelings in the situation.</p><p>But hearing the news from someone who’s basically a stranger — who must be a stranger to Jeno, at the very least, no matter how much time Jaemin’s manager may spend with him — hurts more than anything else. It shows just how far they’ve grown apart, in this universe.</p><p>“When will Jeno-ssi arrive?” Jaemin asks, once they’re finished with his look. He can’t help but feel a little trepidation at the thought of meeting this other Jeno, this Jeno who isn’t his friend anymore.</p><p>“I’m right behind you, Jaemin-ah,” Jeno says softly.</p><p>Jaemin whirls around as soon as he hears Jeno’s voice, and —</p><p>Well. Jaemin doesn’t usually make a habit of lusting over men who are a lot older than him — Gong Yoo is, or at least used to be, the only exception — but Jeno has aged really, <em>really</em> handsomely. Shiny black hair, glittering eye-smile, broad shoulders and trim waist, all of that. It’s kind of terrifying and a little bit unfair, honestly, that Jeno just got excessively more beautiful with time.</p><p>“Hey,” Jaemin greets, feeling a little weak. “How have you been?”</p><p>“I’ve been well.”</p><p>It hits him that Jeno’s grown up now. Well, technically they’re all grown up, but there’s a difference between being a year or two into adulthood and being a year or two from enlisting in the military.</p><p>Jaemin clears his throat, remembering his manager’s words from before. “Congratulations on your engagement, by the way.”</p><p>Jeno’s smile falters, just a little bit, then slips back into place so smoothly that Jaemin wonders if he had just hallucinated that change in expression.</p><p>“Thanks.” Jeno turns away, then, heading towards the front of the set. “Let’s get this photoshoot started, hm?”</p><p>—</p><p>The photoshoot goes fine. Jaemin’s used to modeling with Jeno, after all; they’re often paired with each other for group photos anyway. All of the members know that SM has certain combinations of idols they prefer — the ones that the fans go crazy over the most — regardless of how close they might be to other members.</p><p>Jaemin’s still a little skittish, though. Jeno keeps sending him these furtive looks all the while, even when they aren’t technically supposed to be facing each other. The magazine chose a concept of transitions and separations, so they start off with neat, angular suits that look closer to school uniforms, side by side and smiling, and end with flowing swathes of fabric, alone and apart. Art reflects life, or whatever.</p><p>As he leaves the set, Jeno stops him quickly with a hand on his arm. “Jaemin-ah.”</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>Jeno smiles. “Let’s grab some coffee and talk.”</p><p>They head to a nearby cafe and place their orders quickly. Jaemin thinks the barista recognizes them, maybe, but Jeno gives her a wink and she doesn’t say a word.</p><p>They walk outside together in silence, Jaemin shivering a bit. It’s starting to get dark out, a little colder too. Jeno doesn’t stop until they reach a shaded, secluded park, choosing a bench that conveniently avoids the streetlights’ yellow cast.</p><p>It’s awkward. There’s no way around it, really, and the stifling atmosphere makes it harder for Jaemin to get a bearing of how he’s supposed to behave. The past two occurrences had transplanted him in a pretty typical day in that life, he’d think, but this situation is clearly something that rarely occurs.</p><p>Jeno breaks the silence first. “You still drink coffee like that,” he says, gesturing towards Jaemin’s drink.</p><p>Ah, yes. Jaemin’s infamous order of hell.</p><p>“Is that surprising?” he replies. Right now, the overly caffeinated drink brings comfort, kickstarting a wave of jitteriness that makes him more warm and aware of everything else around him.</p><p>Jeno breathes in a little sharply. “I don’t know,” he admits. He leans forward, resting his chin on his palm as he stares out into the darkness. “It’s been a while.”</p><p><em>Yeah, no shit,</em> Jaemin wants to bite back. Like a cornered animal, lashing out because he still can’t get a read on what’s going on. Instead, he remains silent.</p><p>“I missed you a lot, you know,” Jeno says slowly, turning his head to look back at Jaemin. “When you went on hiatus.”</p><p>“Hiatus,” Jaemin repeats. This, at least, sounds familiar to him. He had heard as much from the other members when he returned, their faces brightening up with relief and hope when he’d moved back into the dorms all those years ago. “For my back.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Jeno sighs. “The day — the day they told us you wouldn’t be coming back, I cried.”</p><p>Just the idea of it — Jaemin never returning to NCT Dream — seems so utterly wrong. That had been one of his worst nightmares during his hiatus, especially in the beginning when his prognosis seemed less clear. But even more remarkable is that Jeno cried. Jaemin has never heard of this from Jeno before, wonders if it still even holds true in his universe. Jeno <em>doesn’t</em> cry. He doesn’t think he’s seen Jeno cry for years, maybe.</p><p>“Why are you telling me this?” Jaemin crosses his arms, uncomfortable with the conclusions he’s beginning to draw. Unbidden, the image of that empty apartment passes through his mind again.</p><p>“There’s something about seeing you again.” Jeno leans back and crosses his arms, mirroring Jaemin’s actions. “It makes me remember.”</p><p>He’s still looking at Jaemin, now.</p><p>So, Jaemin asks the question that’s been on his mind for the entire afternoon. “Why,” he begins, mouth dry all of a sudden. “Why don’t we talk anymore?”</p><p>Something in Jeno’s expression collapses, like wreckage in the aftermath of a storm. “That wasn’t my fault.”</p><p>Jaemin had been the one to cut him off, then. In some ways, he understands why he must have done that — there’s nothing more painful than trying to keep in touch with people whose lives are completely out of sync with yours, especially with NCT’s busy schedules — but in other senses it seems unfathomable. So much of who he is stems from the years he’s spent as NCT’s Na Jaemin, all of his moody adolescence and fledgling adulthood.</p><p>Jaemin tries another tack. “Are you happy, then?” he asks. “With — with your fiance, and all.”</p><p>“Haeun,” Jeno says suddenly, mouth twisting into a frown. “That’s her name. Not surprised you don’t remember, though.”</p><p>“What?” Jaemin tries not to feel too offended, even though he knows every single celebrity and non-celebrity crush <em>his</em> Jeno’s had since middle school.</p><p>Jeno turns his whole body to face Jaemin’s, and suddenly he’s made aware of how <em>close</em> they are, sitting together here on this park bench. Jeno’s face seems to glow, almost silver, like moonlight reflected over stillwater.</p><p>“You never liked any of my girlfriends,” Jeno breathes, inching towards him Jaemin finds himself mirroring the movement unconsciously, being drawn closer and closer.</p><p>They don’t kiss. But it might as well be one, considering how close they are to each other. Jaemin exhales, a soft little thing, and it seems to snap Jeno out of it. He lurches away from Jaemin, blinking rapidly.</p><p>“We can’t keep doing this.” Jeno sounds breathless as he turns away from Jaemin. Panicked, even.</p><p>“Yet, here we are,” Jaemin points out, eyeing Jeno warily. Is this something that they had been <em>doing</em> more than once? This awkward shuffle of regrets and memories, trying to cherish something that has long since eroded with time?</p><p>“You’re going to be invited to my wedding,” Jeno continues, voice now even and under control. His expression is unreadable, carved by the shadows. He isn’t looking at Jaemin anymore.</p><p>“But you don’t want me there,” Jaemin guesses. There’s a flash of recognition in Jeno’s eyes, a sign that he had guessed correctly. Jaemin can’t help but emit a brief, bitter laugh.</p><p>“You don’t want to be there, either.”</p><p>Jaemin opens his mouth to protest, but then considers the man in front of him one more time. Jeno’s just as beautiful in the darkness as he is in front of the camera’s flash. Moreso, even, the outlines of him marked with tragedy.</p><p>No, Jaemin realizes, almost selfishly. He doesn’t want to see Jeno’s wedding. Not here, where Jeno whisks him into the shadows then will leave him to be with another in the limelight. Not here, where it’s clear that things could have been different.</p><p>“Fine.” Jaemin’s trembling, can’t even begin to stop, little earthquake tremors and stress-line fractures in his system. “Fine, then.”</p><p>Jaemin’s phone rings. It’s his manager, now here to pick him up. He leaves without another word.</p><p>His manager notices his mood and stays quiet throughout the car ride back to his apartment. At first Jaemin’s afraid that he won’t be able to enter, but muscle memory powers through despite his preoccupied thoughts. He guesses he’s had a lot of nights like this, returning home to an empty apartment.</p><p>Jaemin tiptoes inside, carefully taking his shoes off and placing them in the hyeongwan. He scoffs, a little, at how all of these pairs belong to him.</p><p>As Jaemin walks through the apartment, silence rings through his ears once again. It’s not like the quiet moments he had shared with Jeno, punctured by the winter wind. It’s different from the strained drive home with his manager, accompanied by the car’s whirring engine. This silence — the complete absence of sound — means that he’s truly alone.</p><p>This morning, it had been unfathomable to live alone in such an empty and open space. Surrounded by the shadows of his apartment, burdened by the events of the past day, Jaemin finally understands. He understands now.</p><p>—</p><p>Jaemin wakes up in tears. He stares up, sightless, at the dark ceiling, his heart pounding as usual. He thinks of <em>his</em> Jeno, the real Jeno, imagines him living a separate life away from Jaemin the way that older version of Jeno had done.</p><p>Jaemin knows two things at that moment:</p>
<ol>
<li>He’s in love with Lee Jeno.</li>
<li>He’ll do anything to keep their friendship afloat, even if it means keeping his feelings aside.</li>
</ol>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. everlasting shine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yes, however many times, however many times we need to / we’ll <a href="https://open.spotify.com/track/3zLCX1TGMpsA67cW2pq6ut?si=VoGuZAAYRHqd3nzeTIxhTA">overcome</a> this moment that lies right before our eyes</p><p>
  <span class="small">cw for brief mentions of violence [has to do with an alternate reality]</span>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That morning, he and Jeno head over to one of the practice rooms to begin filming. The walk to SM’s building holds a tense, uncomfortable silence, but it’s still an improvement from the ringing emptiness of last night. Here, the hollowness is only internal.</p><p>Jeno brings out the tripod, back turned so that Jaemin can’t view his face. “My phone or yours?”</p><p>Jaemin shrugs. “Mine has a better camera,” he says, handing it over to Jeno. Both of them already know that.</p><p>Ever since Shotaro’s notoriety on Tiktok became well known among the fans, management had suggested the members try filming more “self-directed” tiktoks that feel more “authentic.” It’s ironic, almost, that a promotional strategy forces the two of them together — together, alone — in one of the practice rooms, with about an hour to themselves.</p><p>“Do you know the dance?” Jeno asks.</p><p>Jaemin shakes his head. He’d watched the new music video just like anyone else, but he had forgotten it all in the midst of living between worlds every night.</p><p>Jeno gestures him over, pulling his phone out. “Let’s watch it, then.”</p><p>Jaemin holds his breath in as he peers over Jeno’s shoulder, hyper-aware of their proximity to each other. Everything feels a little precarious, like he’s rowing an unsteady boat over rough waters. He tries his hardest to focus on Jeno’s phone screen instead of who’s holding it.</p><p>The choreographer quite obviously tailored the dance for a tiktok challenge, with simple, repetitive motions and a dance move Shotaro once called <em>hitting the woah.</em></p><p>Jeno turns his head to face him, but Jeno’s eyes slide right past him to the wall behind. “Easy enough, right?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Jaemin agrees, flexing his fingers against his sides. He doesn’t think he has ever wanted Jeno to look at him more. After they finish filming the tiktok, Jaemin tells himself. That’s when he’ll fix things.</p><p>Once they start running through the choreography, it becomes much easier for Jaemin to divert his attention away from Jeno. Instead, he focuses on his movements, on dancing in time with the skittering beat.</p><p>He’s been feeling a bit sluggish, a bit weary the past couple of days, but pushing himself in dance is a familiar ache. He’d done as much before — and after — his hiatus.</p><p>Jeno stops the music, jolting Jaemin out of his manufactured, practiced comfort.</p><p>“I think we’re ready to record,” Jeno says. He meets Jaemin’s eyes steadily for the first time.</p><p>“Sounds good,” Jaemin replies. He’s the first to look away. Even with just the two of them here, the practice room feels so small, almost stifling.</p><p>Something’s off when they record the dance for the first time. Jaemin can feel it, that sense of his body moving a beat behind his mind. It’s the nervousness from before manifesting itself, making his movements falter instead of creating the sharp, precise actions he’d spent years honing.</p><p>Jeno plays back the video for him and pauses right at the spot where Jaemin had faltered. “It’s just this one part. Let’s try this again, Jaemin.”</p><p>Jaemin goes through the chorus once more, but this time with Jeno’s watchful eyes on him for the entire duration. It’s nerve-wracking, and more intense than it <em>should</em> be for filming a thirty-second tiktok dance challenge.</p><p>“It’s just this spot,” Jeno comments, reaching out to gently adjust Jaemin’s arms. Somehow, it feels just as powerful as the much more intimate touches the other Jeno’s have bestowed upon him.</p><p>Jaemin doesn’t do a good job of hiding it, either, a sharp intake of breath escaping through his mouth when he feels Jeno’s fingertips brush against his arm. He clenches his hands into fists. He won’t — he can’t — do this any longer.</p><p>“Jeno-yah,” Jaemin starts, looking down at the ground. “I don’t know what’s been going on the past couple of weeks, but.” He glances up, swallowing dryly. “We can’t just be like this forever, we just <em>can’t</em>. I’m sorry if I did something wrong —” I must have done something wrong, he thinks — “and I’ll make it up to you, okay?”</p><p>Jeno fiddles with the strings of his hoodie. “It’s not,” Jeno starts. He pauses, shaking his head. “It isn’t your fault.” He doesn’t sound completely honest, like there’s a piece of the puzzle still missing, but Jaemin still deflates with relief.</p><p>“I miss you,” Jaemin says honestly. He wonders if Jeno can see it in his eyes, that he means it with his whole heart. “I miss you, and you’re right here next to me.”</p><p>He watches as Jeno’s face transitions between a myriad of different emotions, settling on something hidden that he can’t quite decipher.</p><p>Jeno nods to himself, his eyes taking on a determined glint. “Okay,” Jeno replies. “I’m just… working through a couple of things right now. Just give it some time, alright?”</p><p>Jaemin’s instinctive response is to wonder why Jeno hasn’t sought him out for help, but he doesn’t ponder that for too long. After all, he has his own secrets he’ll likely never share with Jeno. What's more important is that he and Jeno are finally <em>talking</em> to each other, somewhat normally, after days of silence.</p><p>“Okay, I’ll wait,” Jaemin agrees, grinning despite himself. Jeno returns his smile slowly, like a bird unfurling its wings, graceful and beautiful.</p><p>Jaemin feels just about ready to soar.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Jaemin hums to himself as he gets ready for bed. Today had felt more tiring than normal, a lot of practice needed in preparation for their comeback, but the best thing was that it had been slightly more <em>normal.</em> Somehow, his conversation with Jeno had begun to restore the balance of the universe, shifting things back into place with the slowness of tectonic plates.</p><p>At meals Jeno had nudged him like he’d used to, wedging himself in between Donghyuck and Jaemin and laughing all the while. During practice breaks they went to fill their water bottles together, side by side. Sure, they were still trying to settle into the old rhythm of their friendship, but in the span of things it seemed like nothing a couple of weeks couldn’t fix.</p><p>Jisung enters their room, pausing as he regards Jaemin. “Hyung, you’re in a good mood today.”</p><p>Jaemin shrugs. “I guess.” At the very least, he no longer feels as shitty as he did during the past couple of days.</p><p>“Did you fix everything with Jeno?” Jisung asks.</p><p>All of a sudden, Jaemin remembers the conversation he’d had with Jisung, before all of his dreams had started. <em>I promise everything will be alright between you and Jeno,</em> Jisung had said, determined and ferocious in the way only a teenager can be. He wonders if Jisung’s behind Jeno’s recent change of heart.</p><p>“We talked today,” Jaemin offers. He isn’t sure whether he should be embarrassed at how obvious he is, but Jisung’s one of the closest to him, understands him the most. “While filming that tiktok for Red Velvet’s new song.”</p><p>Jisung breathes out a sigh of relief. “That’s good, hyung.” He pauses, eyes darting between Jaemin’s face and his bed. “I hope you’ll be able to sleep well tonight, then.”</p><p>Jaemin freezes. “Sleep well?” he repeats, wondering if Jisung can somehow sense what he’s been dreaming about.</p><p>Jisung flushes and turns away from Jaemin, busying himself with smoothing out the covers on his bed. He usually doesn’t bother with such minor details.</p><p>“It’s nothing,” Jisung mutters lowly. “Just, um, you’ve been…” he trails off, tilting his head to the side as he searches for the words. “Hyung, you’ve been mumbling in your sleep a bit! So I was wondering if you were okay!”</p><p>There’s something Jisung isn’t telling him, something he’s obviously embarrassed about. Jaemin wonders if he’s accidentally murmured Jeno’s name in his sleep. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had, considering the past few nights, but the thought still makes him flush. Who knows what kind of conclusions Jisung would draw from that.</p><p>Jaemin taps his fingers against his side, a little nervous. “I have been having some weird dreams lately,” he admits slowly. “But Jisung-ah, please don’t worry about it, okay?”</p><p>Jisung finally turns back around to face him, looking a little sheepish. “Okay,” he echoes.</p><p>“You’ve already got enough on your plate,” Jaemin continues, stepping a little closer so that he can ruffle Jisung’s hair. “You don’t have to worry about hyung, alright?”</p><p>Jaemin looks over Jisung’s face. He looks more tired than usual, most likely a result of his MC schedules on top of preparing for a new comeback. It’s crazy how much Jisung has grown up over the years, makes Jaemin sad, a little, that he doesn’t need to take care of him as much as he had done during their trainee days.</p><p>“Okay,” Jisung repeats, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I won’t worry then, hyung.”</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Jaemin wakes up in an unfamiliar bedroom for the fourth time. Already, he’s starting to get used to the process, cataloging the differences between this body and his, the feel of these sheets against his skin. He keeps his eyes resolutely shut for now and tries to guess at where he’s ended up. The bed isn’t as comfortable as it had been in his luxurious penthouse apartment, but it’s still leagues ahead of from the crappy mattresses they sleep on at the dorms, so maybe—</p><p>He tenses as he hears a clearly audible sigh from his left. Despite the familiarity of waking up somewhere he doesn’t recognize, this is wholly new. He’s sharing a bed with someone, which probably means that he lives with someone else, that he’s dating someone who’ll be able to tell he isn’t his usual self real quick.</p><p>He barely manages to hide a flinch when he feels someone’s fingertips skating across the edge of his jaw, making their way up to his hair and stroking gently. Soon enough, Jaemin relaxes into the touch. It just feels so nice, and comforting, and with his eyes closed he can almost imagine his favorite person touching him like this.</p><p>“Jaemin-ah,” comes a quiet whisper.</p><p>Jaemin tenses up again. He’d recognize that voice anywhere.</p><p>“Jaemin-ah,” Jeno repeats, thumb running over one of Jaemin’s eyebrows gently. He’s so close that Jaemin can feel his breath against his cheek. “I know you’re awake.”</p><p>Jaemin blinks his eyes open slowly, almost afraid of what he’ll find. Jeno smiles at him so gently, so softly, that he knows this can’t be real.</p><p>“Are you feeling better?” Jeno asks, turning his palm over to rest the back of his hand against Jaemin’s forehead. He frowns. “I think your temperature has gone down.”</p><p>Jaemin nods rapidly. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Besides possibly going through cardiac arrest, he thinks. High school Jeno had been shy and bashful, hesitant in his touches. But this Jeno — this Jeno touches him without restraint, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He sits up in the bed. “I think I should —” he starts pushing the covers off of him. He needs to leave, to calm down before something drastic happens. Somehow this gentle skinship feels more painful than a kiss.</p><p>Jeno stops him with a hand on his shoulder. “Stay,” he orders firmly, leaving no room for argument. “I’ll make some juk for you and bring it over, alright? You need to take some rest.”</p><p>“But, but,” Jaemin protests weakly. “Don’t I have…” he trails off. He has no way of knowing whether he’s in university or working at some job in this world. “Something?”</p><p>Jeno eyes him warily. “Yeah, you definitely need to rest.” He gets out of the bed, and Jaemin immediately notices the lack of warmth. Then Jeno walks to his side of the bed, smoothing the covers over Jaemin’s body carefully and essentially tucking him in. “Don’t worry about missing lecture, Jaemin-ah. You barely pay attention as is.”</p><p>“Yah,” Jaemin protests, secretly relieved to hear that some things still haven’t changed. He’s never been the most attentive student.</p><p>Jeno smiles at him, a teasing little grin, then leans over to press his lips to Jaemin’s forehead. “Rest,” he orders quietly. “I’ll come back with the juk in a couple of minutes, okay?”</p><p>“Okay,” Jaemin agrees.</p><p>He must have drifted off, for the next time he blinks open his eyes, Jeno's in front of him holding a steaming hot bowl of rice porridge. Jaemin sits up as quickly as possible, trying to not feel too discombobulated by the sight of Jeno fussing over him like this. Maybe he <em>does</em> have a fever. At least that would explain the flush he feels rising up on his cheeks.</p><p>"Be careful while you eat," Jeno says, handing the bowl over. As he places it in Jaemin's lap, he takes one hand and strokes it over Jaemin's fingers. Gentle and steady, like waves lapping against a shore on a calm day. Like this, Jeno's as mesmerizing as sunset on the water, a beautiful, tangible mirage before him.</p><p>Jaemin tries a spoon of the juk, making sure to blow on the spoon carefully before placing it in his mouth. He winces as it runs down his throat — it's still a bit too hot — but otherwise, it isn't bad. Maybe a bit bland yet overly salty, but no one prepares juk to serve a gourmet meal, anyways.</p><p>He glances up at Jeno, who's still hovering over him anxiously as he sips at it. "Are you just going to watch me eat this?"</p><p>Jeno raises his eyebrows. "What, would you rather I feed you instead?" he returns, batting his eyelashes sarcastically.</p><p>Jaemin blushes in spite of himself. Jeno's a lot wittier than most people give him credit for, but this is a whole new level.</p><p>Jeno smiles, reaching out to cup the side of Jaemin's face. "I just want to take care of you," Jeno says quietly. It's an intimate, delicate thing, his words, as fine as sprinkler mist glinting in the summer sunlight.</p><p>He isn't used to this. Jeno taking care of him, feeding him, caressing his face like he's the only other person in the world. Even in the dorms, on their days off, Jeno's clinginess manifests itself through him climbing into Jaemin's bed and demanding that he be the one to make them food. The reverse situation is much rarer.</p><p>"I mean," Jeno continues. "You're always taking care of others. Not just me, but Jisung and Renjun, and..." he trails off. "I know you've been stressed out with everything, especially since it's our last year, but I just want to make sure you're okay."</p><p>In that moment, Jaemin hesitates over what he needs to say, but settles on what's the simplest: the truth. "I'll always be okay," Jaemin replies. "As long as I'm with you."</p><p>Jeno blushes furiously at that. "You're so cheesy!"</p><p>"You're the one who started it," Jaemin returns, feeling a little bit flustered himself. "Talking about how you want to take care of me all the time."</p><p>Jeno smiles at that. "I guess." At that instant, Jeno's phone buzzes. He checks the screen and then glances over at Jaemin. "I'm going to lecture right now, alright? Your bowl better be finished by the time I come back."</p><p>"You're leaving?" Jaemin asks in spite of himself. Something about this apartment and the coziness of staying in bed makes him want them to be together for the whole day.</p><p>"Don't worry, I'll be back." Jeno makes his way over to the other side of the room and starts packing up his bag: a Macbook, a notebook, and some pencils, so different from the items they normally carry around as idols. Now that Jeno's no longer so close to Jaemin's face, he can clearly note the differences between college Jeno and idol Jeno.</p><p>His Jeno has flawless skin due to expensive dermatological treatments and silvery hair that's just a little fried. This Jeno wears glasses all the time, natural black hair cut in a manner that Jaemin associates with receiving haircuts from his mother from a young age. He seems so much more loose and comfortable, uncontrolled in a way that <em>shows</em> he hasn't been in front of a camera before. All the other Jenos had their own pretenses, from protecting themselves from their peers in school to the typical inner-outer persona that idols and idols-in-training sport. But this Jeno, in the safety of his apartment — <em>their</em> apartment — is completely at ease and all the more compelling because of it.</p><p>"I'll hold you to it," Jaemin replies, with no heat behind it. Jeno turns around at that, just about to step through the door.</p><p>"We'll have movie night when I get back," Jeno promises. "It'll be fun, okay?"</p><p>Jaemin waves him goodbye.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>He spends his time home alone exploring the confines of the apartment. He’s always been curious about the surroundings of his other lives, but this is the first time that he isn’t beholden to some outside schedule, some external clock that keeps things running.</p><p>Their apartment is pretty bare and sparsely furnished, as to be expected of the living situation of two university students. Regardless, Jaemin pokes around, hoping to intuit more about this life he shares with Jeno. The fridge is surprisingly well-stocked, with condiments in the cupboards and instead of just instant ramen, and despite the unwanted minimalism it still feels homely.</p><p>Jaemin lingers over the fridge after he closes it. Taped to the front of the door are a series of photographs — Jaemin, Jeno, and their extended friend group, he supposes. It’s nice to see that he still expresses his affection for others through photography. He recognizes Donghyuck in one of the selfies, Mark at the end of another photo. But those aren’t what causes him to pause.</p><p>Jaemin reaches out to brush his fingers over one photo in particular. It’s a selca of the two of them together, Jaemin with his head turned to press a kiss onto Jeno’s cheek. Jeno’s smiling directly at the camera, looking happier than ever, and even more than that, content. Like he doesn’t want anything else more than this, like he’s received everything he’s ever wanted.</p><p>Jaemin hasn’t ever seen that expression on his Jeno’s face. How could he, when the idol life is practically defined by a series of goalmarkers that shift away as soon as they get close? When NCT became million-sellers, they focused on the next million. When Jeno finished being an MC, he tried to act in a web drama next. When Jaemin’s lyrics finally got accepted for a Dream comeback, he started wondering if he could try songwriting, as well.</p><p>It’s that endless drive to succeed, to keep improving, that provides the fuel to power through his days. Even so Jaemin has to admit that this type of life, as mundane as it might seem, has its own fantasy-like power in his mind.</p><p>He wanders back to the bedroom and opens some of the dresser drawers. He’s starting to feel uncomfortable in his sweaty t-shirt and shorts — Jeno was right, he did have a fever, even if the effects are hard for him to really internalize — and he needs to change into something new.</p><p>Jaemin blushes when he opens one of the drawers and, instead of finding clothes, there’s a pack of condoms and a half-empty bottle of lube. Of course. This shouldn’t be surprising, he tells himself firmly. It’s only expected, considering they’re both adults in a committed relationship who live together. Jaemin can’t believe that prolonged inexposure to anyone with a normal sex life has made him act like blushing virgin at the age of twenty-one.</p><p>Still, the sight of it firmly reminds him that he’s not really at home, that this Jeno doesn’t belong to him. He shuts the drawer and continues his search for clean clothes.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>“Jaemin-ah,” Jeno calls as soon as he returns. “I’m home!” Their apartment is so small that Jaemin can hear him clearly from the bedroom. Jeno sounds breathless, as if he ran all the way back, and the hurried way he shuffles out of his sneakers only underscores this.</p><p>“I’m here,” Jaemin calls back. He didn’t think the time would pass by so quickly alone, but his body did need the rest. He ended up napping again.</p><p>“Are you feeling better?” Jeno hurries to the bedside, hands automatically reaching for Jaemin’s face. His fingers brush hair from his forehead, caressing his jawline: touches that should feel familiar and comforting but instead spread fire through his veins.</p><p>“Yeah,” Jaemin replies hoarsely, looking up at Jeno. “I feel better.”</p><p>Jeno obviously rushed back from lecture. His hair looks a bit more mussed up than it had this morning, and there’s a flush rising on his cheeks from the physical exertion. He’s breathing heavily.</p><p>Jeno smiles at him. “That’s good,” he says, setting his backpack down on the floor. “I’m going to just take a shower, and then maybe we can eat dinner and watch a movie? How’s that sound?”</p><p>“Sounds good.”</p><p>Jeno turns his back to him, facing the dresser instead as he rifles through the drawers for a change of clothes. He begins to take his shirt off, obviously just removing his clothes before he showers, and maybe it’s because of what he saw earlier, but the sight of Jeno makes Jaemin choke on air.</p><p>Jeno looks over from where he’d been in the middle of unbuttoning his shirt. “You okay?”</p><p>“Uh,” Jaemin begins. It isn’t like he hasn’t seen Jeno changing before — they’ve been living in crowded dorms together since they were thirteen — but there’s a <em>difference</em> between a casual glimpse between platonic friends and Jeno feeling comfortable enough to strip in front of him because, well, they’re <em>dating</em> and he’s supposedly seen it all before anyways. “Nevermind.”</p><p>Jeno turns to face him, continuing to unbutton his shirt. His hands move slowly, deliberately, and his eyes are dark with desire. “You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” he muses, finally shrugging his shirt off. He eyes Jaemin carefully, then smirks.</p><p>“I wasn’t—” Jaemin’s taken aback. Since when did Jeno become so flirty? It must be because of him, he realizes, as Jeno steps toward him to smooth his hair down again.</p><p>“You think I can’t tell when you’re looking at me?” Jeno whispers quietly. He leans down and presses a kiss to Jaemin’s forehead. “Let’s wait till you feel better, okay?” He pads away to the bathroom.</p><p>It isn’t long before Jeno returns, and when he does, Jaemin’s absolutely floored. As hot as Jeno might be with his shirt off, it doesn’t really compare with the way he looks in his pajamas, hair still wet. He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt with a neckhole that gapes wide, emphasizing his collarbones. His shorts are too big for him, overly loose as well, but it just makes Jaemin focus on his legs, downy with a soft layer of hair.</p><p>Jeno gives him a questioning glance. “Ready for dinner?”</p><p>Jaemin nods. He supposes that the other Jaemin must be used to this. He can’t help but think that the other Jaemin must be one of the luckiest people in the world.</p><p>Dinner makes Jaemin feel like he’s walking among landmines, in a way. He knows the way he normally talks to Jeno, an easygoing conversation with some teasing and banter, but he’s afraid of revealing that he still doesn’t know much about his life here. Jeno clues into the fact that he doesn’t want to talk and they eventually settle into a comfortable silence.</p><p>Jaemin starts to relax into his role as a boyfriend a little more when they watch a movie together. It’s a cheesy rom-com, easy enough to watch without paying much attention to the actual plot. He’s watched movies with his Jeno many times, and the experience isn’t that much different really, besides how touchy Jeno is.</p><p>He thinks he’s doing a good job of accommodating Jeno’s touches, sitting still when Jeno rests his head on his shoulder for a couple of minutes, when Jeno suddenly lifts his head up and fixes a look at him.</p><p>“Jaemin-ah,” Jeno begins, looking at him carefully. “Is something wrong?”</p><p>Jaemin shifts uncomfortably. Here he thought he’d been doing well as this Jaemin, but maybe not. “I’m fine,” he replies. “Why?”</p><p>Jeno shrugs, but the corners of his mouth remain downturned. “Normally you’re more…” he trails off, looking lost for words. “You just seem withdrawn, today.” Here, he forces a smile, and it brings up latent memories of seeing that same expression on Jeno’s face after none of the members showed up to Jeno’s last show as an MC. <em>It’s fine, don’t worry,</em> Jeno had said, the smile hurting as much as any other lie.</p><p>“I had a fever,” Jaemin offers, because it’s the truth.</p><p>“But normally—” Jeno shakes his head. “It’s fine.” He shifts his body back into the previous position, resting his head back on Jaemin’s shoulder.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Jaemin whispers. He knows he must be a far cry from the loving boyfriend that knows this Jeno inside and out. Then, he does what he’d been suppressing the urge to do ever since the movie started: he begins stroking Jeno’s hair, running his fingers gently through the soft locks.</p><p>It’s hard to see Jeno’s face from this angle, but Jaemin doesn’t need to view his facial expression to know that he’s hit the jackpot. Jeno relaxes into his side so completely that it makes him realize before Jeno had felt tense, stiff. He must do this normally then.</p><p>Jaemin isn’t surprised. There’s nothing more soothing than this, than the two of them watching some dumb movie together and sharing the couch with each other.</p><p>This is how Jaemin wakes up: drifting off in Jeno’s arms, holding onto something he knows isn’t real.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Jeno, as Jaemin has learned over the years, mostly tolerates his touch. He welcomes it, even, especially when the cameras aren’t around. But sometimes, especially recently over the past couple of months, Jeno would stiffen up instead of softening into it, choosing to sit slouched over Donghyuck’s shoulder instead of his own.</p><p>Jaemin wasn’t jealous, or anything. It’s just that friendly touches with Jeno felt like the most natural thing in the world, and the fans like it, too, and who is Jaemin if not the best idol that he can possibly be?</p><p>Still, he remembers the vlive when he took it too far vividly, as if he had experienced it in high-resolution instead of standard definition.</p><p>Jaemin had felt pretty energized that day, so he took the lead during the live, answering questions and encouraging fans to focus on their studies and do well in school. Jeno was the only other member filming with him.</p><p>Jaemin watched the screen as he put his arm around Jeno. Instantly, it exploded in a flurry of hearts, nearly tripling the amount that had been streaming through before.</p><p>“Wow, czennies are showing us so much love today,” Jaemin said.</p><p>Jeno scoffed a little, under his breath, so quiet that only Jaemin could hear it.</p><p>“Jeno-yah,” Jaemin said sweetly, a little warning underneath. “Why don’t you answer some questions, too? Our czennies have been sending so many.”</p><p>“Sure,” Jeno replied, voice quiet. The fans would just interpret it as his usual mellow personality or introvertedness, but it still didn’t come off well, in Jaemin’s eyes. He had to take drastic measures.</p><p>“Jeno-yah,” Jaemin repeated, leaning forward a little closer.</p><p>Jaemin stared at Jeno, gaze darting to his lips and then back up to his eyes. He knew that if he looked at the screen, it would be littered with hearts right now. He could feel Jeno’s hot breath against his cheek.</p><p>He then reached out and flicked at Jeno’s forehead lightly, breaking up the awkward tension. “Come on, they’re waiting for you.”</p><p>Jeno responded to some of the comments with his usual sense of humor, teasing fans for watching the live instead of studying and answering whatever random questions they brought up. It was almost like that weird stare down hadn’t happened, except for one thing.</p><p>Jeno didn’t look at him for the rest of the vlive.</p><p>Once Jaemin ended the live, Jeno stood up, clearly ready to leave the room as fast as possible.</p><p>“Wait,” Jaemin said, standing up so that they both were looking at each other, eye to eye. “Jeno, are you—”</p><p>“Don’t you think you’ve been taking it too far?” Jeno asked, voice level. Jaemin noticed that his hands were balled into fists at his sides. “It was a lot, today.”</p><p>Jaemin forced laughter, but it just sounded overly airy and false. “What do you mean?” he replied, eyes wide and innocent.</p><p>“You know what I mean.” Jeno shook his head, a silent message. “You shouldn’t — you can’t —”</p><p>“We’re supposed to be best friends,” Jaemin argued. “We’re the most popular CP—”</p><p>“Even so,” Jeno interrupted, “there are boundaries you shouldn’t cross.”</p><p>“Jeno-yah,” Jaemin said, a little confused at how serious Jeno seemed. It set off something within him, a memory of latent emotions he had longed pushed away. “You know it’s not like <em>that</em>, I know it’s not like that, so what’s the big deal?”</p><p>Jeno turned his head away, so that Jaemin could no longer read his facial expressions.</p><p>“Yeah, you’re right,” Jeno replied, after a long pause. He faced Jaemin again, and there was a mild smile on his face, like Jaemin had tried to say something funny but it hadn’t actually been amusing at all. “What’s the big deal?”</p><p>That had been just over a month ago, now.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Preparations for their next comeback start ramping up, and the days and nights begin to pass by in a blur. The worst thing about a comeback is the loss of the sense of time. Their practice rooms don’t let in much light, and the long hours and short breaks leave him feeling disoriented, almost weak. Still, he pushes away the fatigue, makes sure that he doesn’t let down the others with his performance.</p><p>At least his friendship with Jeno continues to repair itself naturally, their usual ways of life sliding back into place.</p><p>It starts off with the van rides. For the past month, Jaemin had grown accustomed to staring at the back of Jeno’s ash-gray head as he sat in the van, the rest of the members silently forming a blockade between the two of them.</p><p>The day after the tiktok filming, however, Jeno slides onto the seat beside Jaemin in the van. It’s 6 AM and they’re heading to the countryside for a photoshoot with Marie Claire. None of them are really cognizant of what’s going on, at least Jaemin isn’t, his reaction dulled without beloved caffeine.</p><p>In the weak gray early morning light, Jeno seems like something out of a dream.</p><p>Jaemin blinks at him in shock. “Are you real?” he whispers, reaching out to poke Jeno’s cheek. Chenle, who’s clambering into the van just as Jaemin says this, gives them both a dirty look. Probably for talking before the time hits double digits; none of them function particularly well this early.</p><p>Jeno pushes his hand away, curling his fingers around it instead. “Shut up and sleep, Jaemin.”</p><p>It’s a far cry from the affectionate cuddling Jaemin had welcomed last night, but it feels just as precious to sit beside Jeno again. There are some habits that he didn’t realize he missed until they had wholly vanished from his life.</p><p>As the drive progresses, all of the members begin to drift off again. It’s a two-hour car ride to the location, and they all need the rest. Even Mark’s conversation with the manager about schedule details peters out after a while. One thing, however, jolts Jaemin out of sleep.</p><p>Jeno rests his head on Jaemin’s shoulder again. He wonders what would happen if he reached out, stroked the top of Jeno’s head the way he had done last night. Jaemin makes the mistake of looking up instead, though, and makes eye contact with Mark through the front mirror; it’s a close call, he knows, even if Mark’s sensible enough to keep whatever he might see to himself.</p><p>It’s dangerous, the dreams he’s been having, the different universes he’s been exploring. The line between fever-like fantasy and reality only gets blurrier by the day, dissipating like fresh mist. The exhaustion hasn’t helped matters, either. Jaemin knows his body well enough to realize that this level of fatigue isn’t normal for him. Something’s going to give.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>“Hyung! Hyung! Jaemin-hyung, are you okay?” Jisung’s face peers above him, worried and shadowed. It’s still dark out, he realizes blankly.</p><p>“You were shouting in your sleep, did something happen?” Jisung continues. The sight of him nearly gave Jaemin a second fright.</p><p>The first fright had been…</p><p>He doesn’t want to think about it, screwing his eyes shut to will the remnants of his dream away, but that only makes it worse. Images flash before his eyes: Jeno standing above him, smile bright with bloodlust; Jeno, eyes cold as he quickly disposed of the men who had entered with him; Jeno, mouth forming words crueler than Jaemin had ever heard from him, passionate and angry and shooting bullets right into Jaemin’s chest.</p><p>Last night, Jaemin had been part of kkangpae, and Jeno had been out for his blood, a completely different type of wanting than anything Jaemin had ever considered. It terrified and enthralled him in equal measure.</p><p>“Hyung,” Jisung repeats, gentler but still urgent.</p><p>Jaemin whimpers in response, hands automatically reaching for his abdomen. As his fingers touch dry, undamaged skin — not wet with warm blood, not broken with scars and wounds — he heaves a sigh of relief.</p><p>Jisung hesitates, then reaches out, stroking his forehead gently. “Jaemin-hyung, answer me,” he says. “Did you have — was it a nightmare?”</p><p>Jisung’s eyes are wide with concern.</p><p>Jaemin remembers their conversation from earlier, the way Jisung had been worrying over his lack of proper sleep. Jaemin had promised him that <em>hyung will take care of it,</em> but he’s never felt more out of his depth before now.</p><p>It takes a while for Jaemin to form his words.</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it,” he musters up finally, voice barely louder than a whisper. “I don’t — I can’t —”</p><p>Jisung reaches forward and holds him in a hug, tucking Jaemin’s head against his chest. “It’s okay, hyung,” Jisung murmurs softly. Then, so quiet he’s almost indecipherable, he continues: “Your soul will settle itself soon, won’t it? Hm?”</p><p>Jaemin doesn’t understand half of what Jisung’s saying, but he pays no mind to it, just unfocuses and drifts off to sleep in Jisung’s arms.</p><p>After that, Jaemin starts to actively try to block out the worlds he inhabits at night. They pass by him, dreamlike, countless different universes as the days go by. Thankfully, it never becomes quite bad as it did that one night.</p><p>One time he wakes up and he’s a speedskater, representative of South Korea at Worlds and fulfilling every prepubescent athletic dream he’s ever had. Jeno figure-skates alongside him as part of the Korean delegation at ice shows. Another time, Jaemin’s the one who married someone else, and Jeno stops by to help take care of his daughter for the afternoon.</p><p>Each instance seems to represent a path that he’s never taken, one that he can’t take, anymore, and each time that path seems to lead to Jeno.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Now Jaemin can expect Jeno’s quiet solidarity during the inbetween van rides, a companion when they take water breaks. Even someone who’s willing to sneak out to the convenience store with a mask on to get their hands on some instant ramen for once. But still, Jaemin doesn’t completely relax until his last day off before promotions, when he wakes up to find Jeno staring down at him.</p><p>“Jaemin-ah, <em>Jaemin-ah,</em>” Jeno says, giving Jaemin a look that he only uses when he’s after something he really wants. “Cook for me.”</p><p>“Right now?” Jaemin asks, head a conflicting mix of grumpy sleepiness and tenderness. Jeno’s so close that he could just reach out and touch. He remembers his words from last week, that drowsy question: <em>Are you real?</em></p><p>“Right now,” Jeno confirms. His expression suddenly turns serious. “We won’t be able to have breakfast like this for a while, Jaemin-ah, so I was hoping…” he trails off, then hesitates.</p><p>“What were you hoping?” Jaemin prompts, now that he’s more cognizant of what’s occurring. He sits up in his bed and stretches his arms.</p><p>Jeno mumbles something under his breath that Jaemin can’t quite make out. He can guess, though, and what little he does hear makes him feel almost hopeful.</p><p>Jaemin’s grin widens. “Come on, Jeno-yah,” he continues. “Say it.”</p><p>“I miss your cooking,” Jeno doesn’t make eye contact with him.</p><p>“See, how easy was that,” Jaemin says, suddenly invigorated despite feeling groggy just thirty seconds prior. “So cute.” He winks at Jeno for good measure.</p><p>Their routine of Jeno dragging Jaemin out of bed in order to make him cook both of them food started a couple years ago, and it involves two of Jaemin’s favorite things: taking care of other people, and spending time with Jeno.</p><p>He hums to himself as he begins to take out the necessary ingredients in the kitchen, Jeno watching him silently all the while. Eventually Jeno must get bored by the familiar sight, for the tell-tale sounds of Jeno’s mobile games begin to fill the room. It forms a weird harmony with the sizzling eggs and boiling water on the stove, but to Jaemin it’s a dissonance that’s as comforting as any melody: the sound of a lazy morning at the dorms, the sound of time well-spent with Jeno.</p><p>They eat together quietly. Neither of them are particularly talkative in the mornings, especially Jeno, but the silence isn’t awkward or strained the way things used to be. Jeno scrolls through SNS on his phone and shows Jaemin an interesting post at regular intervals, and Jaemin… Well, Jaemin’s just content to eat his breakfast and watch Jeno, for now.</p><p>In moments like this, it doesn’t seem too bad to him. Being in love with his best friend, that is.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Later in the day, once the sun has begun to set, Jeno enters Jaemin’s dorm room. He’s wearing a black face mask that covers half his face and a matching baseball cap that shields the rest of his features.</p><p>“Hm?” Jaemin asks, looking up from his tablet. He’d been watching an episode of an anime. The last day before the full-on bombardment of schedules was always like this: trying to grasp onto the final moments of normalcy before being thrust into the rhythms of a comeback. Early mornings and late nights, dull skin and little sleep, the glow of his fans in the audience, Jaemin was used to all of it and loved it, but still.</p><p>“I’m going cycling,” Jeno states. From what little Jaemin makes out of Jeno’s face, he can tell that Jeno’s eyes are focused right on him, intent.</p><p>Jeno usually cycles alone.</p><p>This moment: Jeno in front of him, dressed up as if he’s moments away from heading out, telling him his plans, is as much of an invitation as Jaemin is going to get.</p><p>Still, for good measure, Jaemin says, “Do you want me to come with?”</p><p>Jeno nods. “Already told the manager,” he adds, shoving his hands in his pockets.</p><p>Jaemin scrambles up from where he’d been lying on the bed. “I’ll be ready in a minute.” He begins rifling through his drawers for clothes to change into, grabbing the first hat he sees and wearing it. Before he walks out of the room, he hesitates, pausing by his camera bag, then slings it over his shoulder anyways.</p><p>Biking with Jeno always feels exhilarating, everything rushing by Jaemin too fast for him to really process the details of things until they’ve already passed him. A delayed reaction time of some sorts, but a welcome one.</p><p>It’s hard to talk with the wind and the pace that they cycle at, but the sounds of the environment fill up that blank space. This — biking with Jeno, legs pedaling furiously to keep up, grinning against the sharp night air despite himself — is the best part of reconciliation: the return to easy companionship.</p><p>Jaemin doesn’t get to bike with Jeno often: he respects that it’s Jeno’s way to process his own feelings. Even so, he had still spent the past month of silence feeling a little bit dejected whenever he’d see Jeno head out to cycle on his own. It had clued Jaemin into the fact that Jeno had a lot of issues he wanted to process on his own.</p><p>Jaemin wants to help shoulder Jeno’s burdens, not make them worse. That had been the resolution that he made to himself on the day he realized the extent of his feelings for his best friend. Before, he’d thought that the emotions he felt could be brushed off, disguised under a veneer of close friendship and company-approved fanservice. Now, no matter how much he wants to control each action, he can’t help but let his feelings overflow. That’s why the camera helps, usually: it lets him focus his love through something else, direct it to create meaningful memories instead.</p><p>They come to a stop by the Han. It’s the same place that Jaemin had taken a photo of Jeno almost two years ago, now. Jaemin remembers it, the city lights glinting in the same way that he sees now. So beautiful and guarded.</p><p>“Things used to be so simple,” Jaemin says, apropos of nothing. He fingers the strap of his camera bag idly.</p><p>Jeno gives him an unreadable look, then nods. “Cycling helps,” Jeno replies, cut off. “Isn’t it the same for photography?” he adds, gesturing towards Jaemin’s camera bag.</p><p>They make their way to a park bench. A streetlight shines down upon the two of them, and Jaemin can clearly make out the outlines of Jeno’s side-profile, even obscured by a face mask.</p><p>Jaemin wishes, foolishly, that they chose a more shaded bench, the way they’ve done in other worlds. It’s always easier to be honest in the dark, to see Jeno as a part of him when he doesn’t have to share him with the bright lights. Everything is outlined too harshly in this light, washed out and bloodless.</p><p>Jeno’s about to say something. Jaemin can sense it, sees the hesitation in the way Jeno holds himself. So, he waits.</p><p>“I missed you too, you know. When we weren’t talking,” Jeno admits quietly. “But I think it’s getting better.”</p><p>“The — whatever you had to work through,” Jaemin swallows, “by yourself?”</p><p>Jeno nods, contemplative as he gazes out across the water. As if he’s searching for something he can’t quite reach.</p><p>“It’ll get better,” Jeno repeats, an unsteady promise, like a table trying to balance itself on two legs.</p><p>As Jaemin watches Jeno, observing him through both his own eyes and the camera’s lens, he wonders how he thought he could lie to himself about his relationship to Jeno. It’s just undeniable, how he feels.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Jaemin hasn’t stopped wondering about his nightly visits to other universes. They must be actual other worlds, he thinks. He still doesn’t really understand it, the whole concept of alternate realities being able to exist, really. And even if they did exist, why would Jeno appear in each one? Surely the odds aren’t <em>that</em> good?</p><p>He tries to talk to Renjun about it once, while they’re waiting to film individual shots for a music video. It takes a while for him to bring it up, but they have the time. A lot of idolhood is just waiting around and passing time with the people next to you, never off-duty.</p><p>“Do you think,” Jaemin starts, fidgeting in his suit. They’ve chosen an occupation-themed comeback, and he’s supposed to be a bored white-collar lawyer. It’s one of the few things he hasn’t done yet while visiting other worlds.</p><p>Renjun gives him a look. He’s dressed in a white lab coat and has a stethoscope hanging off one of his pockets. “What is it?”</p><p>Jeno’s the one filming right now. He’s a convenience store worker, costume completed by the tacky neon-colored uniform, but he still manages to make it look charming under the bright lights.</p><p>“If Jeno and I weren’t idols together, if we met in a different universe, do you think we’d still be friends?” Jaemin asks.</p><p>Jeno winks at the camera and mouths along to his lines: <em>You don’t know my heart, but I still want yours.</em></p><p>Renjun tilts his head, considering. That was one of the things Jaemin appreciated about Renjun. He’d always give full thought to a question he asked, if he deemed it reasonable enough.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Renjun says finally. “I mean, wouldn’t it depend on the circumstances?”</p><p><em>But that’s the problem,</em> Jaemin wants to scream. Because no matter what, no matter which universe he wakes up in, he’s always in love with Jeno.</p><p>“Look,” Renjun adds, shrugging, before saying the wisest thing of all: “Who cares about other universes. Just make sure you don’t screw up this one.”</p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>The second time that Jeno had ignored him, in recent memory — not just a brief tussle, but a full on Ice Age level freeze-out — had been because of Jaemin’s girlfriend.</p><p>Ex-girlfriend, that is. He’s never been great at correcting that in his head, just because of how little she passed by in his mind post-break up.</p><p>Regardless: Jaemin had been dating someone, in the lightest sense of the word — they barely texted goodnight to each other, and Jaemin never bought her cute presents the way he thought he always would when he’d finally get a girlfriend, and their only kisses had been chaste, bordering on robotic. And, well, given the way all of the members are always up in each other’s space, it wasn’t long before someone caught on.</p><p>First it was just Renjun, but then Donghyuck started teasing about it too, and later the maknaes found out as well, until it turned out that practically everyone in NCT Dream knew about his puppy love relationship.</p><p>Jaemin didn’t think it was as big of a deal as everyone else made it out to be — so he had a bit more free time while recovering from a severe injury and started dating a girl, so what? It’s not like he could’ve spent all his hours with his parents — prolonged exposure to their worrying drove him a little crazy, sometimes — and at the time the most contact he’d had of NCT was watching their music videos and texts in their group chat (which he mostly ignored) and Jeno’s calls (which were few and far between, anyway).</p><p>Sometimes it made Jaemin remember that conversation he’d had with Donghyuck while they had been preparing for NCT Dream’s debut. None of them would ever have typical teenage lives; that had been the path they had chosen for themselves. Having a girlfriend was the most mundane thing about Jaemin, and therefore, one of the most interesting things about him to the other members.</p><p>Looking back, Jaemin’s honestly surprised that Jeno didn’t know about it. He figured Donghyuck had let it slip to him at some point, and Jeno had just never spoken up about it. For some reason, Jaemin just didn’t felt so keen on telling Jeno himself. After all, it wasn’t like he had told any of the other members, either — they had all found it out from each other, with the exception of Renjun, who had been looking over Jaemin’s shoulder that one time.</p><p>For some reason, none of the other members had told Jeno either, though.</p><p>Jeno found out during a conversation that would’ve been unremarkable otherwise. Renjun and Chenle were on the couch, watching a movie together.</p><p>Jaemin had just entered the room, still shaking from the adrenaline of breaking up with his girlfriend <em>over text</em>. He had never been a good boyfriend — he knew that much — but this had been the worst thing of them all. Still, he had known, even then, that it was the right thing to do. In order to play the role of boyfriend for thousands of fans, he’d have to give up being the boyfriend of just one person.</p><p>Renjun looked up. “What’s up with your face, Jaemin-ah?”</p><p>Jaemin contorted his features into something more neutral, pleasant. It didn’t fool either of them. “Nothing.” He settled on the couch beside Chenle and buried his head in his palms. “Nothing’s wrong.”</p><p>Chenle raised his eyebrows. “Having trouble with your <em>girlfriend?</em>” he said, sing-song.</p><p>“We broke up,” Jaemin replied, still muffled by his fingers. He closed his eyes. “Or I dumped her, actually. I’m such an asshole.”</p><p>“That isn’t surprising,” Renjun said slowly, ever the voice of reason. “We’re getting busier, it’s hard to have time for those things.”</p><p>Chenle tried to pat his shoulder reassuringly, and it did make Jaemin feel better, just a bit.</p><p>“Don’t worry, you made the right choice,” Chenle said. “Your girlfriend deserves better, right?”</p><p>“Girlfriend?”</p><p>Startled out of his moping, Jaemin opened his eyes and turned around. He was met with the sight of Jeno staring back at him, smiling and confused.</p><p>“Uh, maybe I didn’t hear that right,” Jeno continued, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Did you say you have a girlfriend?”</p><p>“Ex-girlfriend,” Chenle corrected in a quiet voice.</p><p>Jeno looked at Chenle, then at Renjun, ashen-faced. Then he focused his attention back on Jaemin. “All of them knew?”</p><p>“You <em>didn’t</em> know?” Jaemin countered weakly. In his periphery, he could see Renjun wincing.</p><p>Needless to say, Jeno didn’t take it well. It took two weeks for Jaemin to convince Jeno to talk to him alone. They ended up in Jeno’s empty dorm room, sitting with their legs crossed atop Jeno’s bed.</p><p>“How come you told everyone before me?” was the first thing that came out of Jeno’s mouth. He crossed his arms, almost petulant.</p><p>Jaemin sighed. “Jeno-yah, it’s not like that,” he said. “It’s not like I even <em>told</em> any of them, honestly, Renjun just looked over my shoulder <em>one time</em> and the next thing I know,” he takes a breath, “Park Jisung’s asking me if I’ve ever had my first kiss before.”</p><p>“Well, you have,” Jeno said. “Did you tell him it was with Donghyuck?”</p><p>Jaemin laughed “No, I just avoided the conversation completely,” he replied.</p><p>“I don’t know what’s worse,” Jeno continued, frowning slightly. “You not telling me or the <em>others</em> not telling me, either.”</p><p>Jaemin shrugged. “Whatever, we broke up,” he said. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” And it never really did, he thought to himself. Not in the way NCT Dream mattered to him, at least.</p><p>“What was your girlfriend like?” Jeno propped his chin up with his hands, looking a little wistful and envious. “Is she nice? Pretty?”</p><p>Jaemin hadn’t known how to describe her to the other members without feeling horribly embarrassed and dull — saying that she’s nice and pretty was just so generic, and they all had such unnecessarily high expectations for a bland high school romance — and the same applied here, with Jeno. So, Jaemin did what he had done with Renjun and Donghyuck: he pulled out his phone and pulled up his contact photo for her.</p><p>“Do you think she’s pretty?” Jaemin asked, showing his phone screen to Jeno.</p><p>Jeno’s eyes widened once he saw the photo. “Oh,” he breathed. He blinked a couple of times, speechless.</p><p>Donghyuck and Renjun had had that same stunned, almost amazed reaction, but coming from Jeno it somehow seemed more irritating than before.</p><p>“I get it now,” Jeno said, still looking surprised. “Why Renjun and Donghyuck didn’t tell me, I guess.”</p><p>“It’s like you’ve never seen a girl before,” Jaemin scoffed, grabbing his phone out of Jeno’s hands. “And we’ve broken up, so.”</p><p>“It’s not that,” Jeno said, looking between Jaemin’s eyes and the phone in his hands. Jeno bit his lip. “She has a nice eye-smile, huh?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Jaemin said warily. Something about Jeno discussing how pretty his ex-girlfriend was really rubbed him the wrong way. “Can we stop talking about this, please?”</p><p>“Okay,” Jeno agreed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “But next time —” Jeno swallowed, looking at Jaemin seriously — “you should tell me, when something’s going on, you know? It felt weird when the others knew and I didn’t.”</p><p>“Of course,” Jaemin had replied, not knowing that he’d break his promise a couple years later.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>There might be benefits to having a crush on his best friend turned coworker, but whatever these may be, they’re vastly outnumbered by the downsides. Jaemin, over a month into his nightly visions of alternate lives, starts to make a list.</p><p>First of all, it’s pretty hard to continuously make eye contact with Jeno and act like everything’s completely fine when he’s having dreams of completely different scenarios on the regular. Sometimes it’s hard to separate the reality and dream, draw the barrier that Jaemin <em>knows</em> exists in their relationship between friends and anything beyond that.</p><p>Further, Jaemin begins to catch himself slipping more and more. It starts with dark 6 AM and 11 PM van rides, when it’s so shadowed in the van that he can convince himself the members won’t pay attention. He’ll rest his head on Jeno’s shoulder or run his fingers through Jeno’s hair absentmindedly as the other boy sleeps.</p><p>The first time Jeno’s awake for it — Jaemin touching him in that hidden, careless way — is an accident. Jaemin had thought Jeno was asleep when he started stroking Jeno’s hair slowly. Jeno was back to a dyed-black color, hair still a little stiff under Jaemin’s hands but better off than it had been with the bleach.</p><p>He doesn’t notice anything off until he feels Jeno tense under his arms, and he stops, wondering if Jeno will tell him off for being overly touchy.</p><p>Then Jeno relaxes again. In the window’s reflection, Jaemin watches his reaction carefully. Jeno’s eyelashes flutter shut, and he settles further into Jaemin’s side, as if unconsciously seeking warmth.</p><p>It’s nowhere near the clingy behavior that college-Jeno had displayed when he’d had a fever, but it’s close enough. Jeno’s <em>letting</em> him. Jeno’s allowing this closeness to occur, allowing it to flow like a river instead of building a dam with his avoidance.</p><p>So, it continues. Jaemin fills up Jeno’s water bottle for him first, dotes on him during the seldom off-days they have, and observes him carefully at photoshoots. It’s just too difficult to flip the on and off switch between day and night anymore.</p><p>In every universe, instead, he is the same. He cares for Jeno the best he can.</p><p>Try as he might to contain his feelings, they flood out past his subconscious. Jeno doesn’t seem to pay them any mind, accepting Jaemin’s unusual kindness in stride.</p><p>Jaemin almost starts to make peace with this new normal, with any version of Jeno that comes to haunt him at night, from a murderous coconspirator to a fellow skater or celebrity.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>Jisung corners him one night in the kitchen, after they’ve returned back from their last comeback stage for this cycle of promotions. He hasn’t washed off his makeup yet, and his eyeliner’s a bit smudged, but it honestly only adds to the ferocity of Jisung’s glare.</p><p>“You need to stop, hyung,” Jisung says, sounding pained. He crosses his arms, standing up as straight as possible to reach his full height.</p><p>Jaemin raises his eyebrows. “Stop what, Jisung-ah?” His palms feel a little sweaty, despite himself, and he wipes them against his pants.</p><p>“I don’t know <em>what’s</em> going on between you and Jeno, but you need to figure it out,” Jisung replies. “It’s been going on for too long.”</p><p>Jaemin narrows his eyes. “It’s none of your business—”</p><p>“It is,” Jisung interrupts. “Hyung, I messed up, but please, just tell the truth to Jeno.” He turns to leave, but Jaemin catches his wrist within his grasp before Jisugn can.</p><p>“What do you mean,” Jaemin says slowly, “You messed up, Jisung-ah?” His mind immediately swirls with the worst possibilities: Jeno finding out the truth about his feelings, Jeno rejecting him with disgust, Jeno ignoring him forever—</p><p>A small part of his brain reminds him that despite whatever universe he’d end up in at night, Jeno had never once disregarded his feelings so callously. But still, Jisung’s words incite the primal instinct to panic.</p><p>“Your dreams,” Jisung continues. “You’ve still been having weird dreams, right, hyung?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Jaemin admits hesitantly. He hopes they don’t delve further into, well, the content of his dreams.</p><p>“I don’t know what’s still wrong with you and Jeno!” Jisung continues, wringing his hands. “You’re back to being friends again but things aren’t fully… you haven’t completely…” he trails off, looking off into the distance as he tries to formulate his words. “There’s something you two are keeping from each other.”</p><p>That’s obvious enough to Jaemin. There’s his unspoken feelings towards Jeno, and Jeno himself has his own problems that he’d refused to disclose to Jaemin.</p><p>“I don’t understand,” Jaemin says, pulse racing quick. “What, exactly, does this have to do with my dreams?”</p><p>Jisung’s mouth is set into a firm line. “You can’t keep going on like this,” he warns, eyes flashing furiously. “The discontent — the lack of peace — it’ll break your soul apart.” He speaks as if Jaemin’s <em>soul</em> is a tangible, real thing, not just a metaphor for his feelings.</p><p>Jaemin can’t help but find it a little amusing. “Okay, sure,” he agrees easily. “I’ll make sure my soul doesn’t rot away, or something.”</p><p>“I mean it,” Jisung insists. “Fix it before you have any more regrets.”</p><p>Before Jaemin can get another word in, he stomps off. Jaemin shakes his head as he watches Jisung leave. Even if Jisung’s a legal adult now, the last vestiges of adolescent behavior still cling to him like shrinkwrap.</p><p>Jeno enters the kitchen, already having showered and changed into his lounging clothes. “Hey, what was that all about?” he asks, walking up to stand beside Jaemin. “Jisung didn’t look happy.”</p><p>Jaemin shrugs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says lightly. “It’s not a big deal.”</p><p>Jeno opens his mouth to protest, then takes another look at Jaemin’s face and clearly thinks better of it. Instead he nods, resting one of his hands on Jaemin’s shoulder.</p><p>“Alright,” Jeno replies, and they both know that he’s lying. “I won’t worry, then.”</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>The bone-deep exhaustion he had felt all comeback doesn’t wear off during the next week of lighter schedules. If anything, the issue gets worse. Jaemin finds himself falling asleep at any extended stretch of time where he isn’t required to do anything. He feels even more fatigued than he had during his first time promoting with NCT Dream, when his adolescent, growing body had longed for nine hours of sleep that Jaemin just couldn’t muster.</p><p>Right now, they’re supposed to be filming a vlive with other NCT members outside of just Dream. Jaemin lucked out, in that Yangyang and Donghyuck have no problem directing the conversation and making sure he doesn’t have to talk much.</p><p>Jaemin sits next to Jeno and listens along to the other members idly. It’s a pretty chill vlive, as far as things go, nothing overly scripted or planned. He’s pretty sure WayV will be starting promotions soon, and management wanted them to have this cross-subunit live to pass the momentum on, so to speak.</p><p>As the minutes drag on, Jaemin finds it harder and harder to focus. He focuses on sitting up as straight as possible, maintaining that posture that makes him seem three inches taller than Jeno on camera even when they’re the same height.</p><p>Jeno gives him a look, tilting his head slightly.</p><p>Jaemin responds with a simple nod, quick and furtive. He’s fine. He <em>will</em> be fine, probably, once he catches up on his sleep. He’s starting to dread it sometimes now; last night, a different Jeno had broken up with him, asking through angry tears if Jaemin had ever really loved him.</p><p>He had woken up restless, even more heartbroken than the time Jeno had shot him awake.</p><p>“Yeah, we love our czennies,” Donghyuck is saying, smiling as he reads through the fan comments. “Hmm? You’re nervous for exams?”</p><p>Jeno puts his arm around Jaemin, carefully, and offers up a couple of words as the live progresses. Jaemin barely contains his flinch at the touch, still thinking about that other Jeno, his clear anger as he had smashed an empty soju bottle against the counter.</p><p>Jaemin barely notices when the live stops, only snapping out of his thoughts when most of the others have left. Jeno’s still sitting right next to him, arm no longer around his shoulders but instead wedged between their bodies.</p><p>They don’t need to sit this close anymore, Jaemin realizes. There’s plenty of space, now that Donghyuck and the others have vacated the room.</p><p>Neither of them move.</p><p>“What’s going on, Jaemin-ah?” Jeno asks. He crosses his arms, extracting his arm from between the two of them, and the slight gap between their bodies makes Jaemin feel shivery and cold. At least their shoulders still touch.</p><p>“Nothing,” Jaemin replies reflexively. It’s a sign that their friendship has truly repaired that Jeno doesn’t accept what he’s saying at face value, giving him a concerned look instead.</p><p>Jeno hesitates. “You’re losing hair again,” he says quietly, reaching over to pluck a strand from the front of Jaemin’s t-shirt. “Something’s bothering you.”</p><p>“Haven’t been able to sleep well, I guess.” Jaemin shrugs, trying to play it off as casually as possible. He isn’t certain he’s doing a good job, given the way Jeno keeps returning his gaze with eerily focused intent.</p><p>It’s one thing when Jaemin’s pulling that on everyone else, but it’s another experience entirely to feel the full weight of Jeno’s serious stare on him. It reminds him of too many things — of bloodlust and schoolboy crushes, of old idolhood regrets and university love. Sometimes, Jeno hurts to look at, like this.</p><p>“You should tell me,” Jeno says. “Especially if something’s bothering you.”</p><p>“What about you?” Jaemin returns. “One day you just decided you had a problem with me and then ignored me for <em>weeks</em>?”</p><p>“That was different.” Jeno’s expression switches from concerned to something more angry and hurting, a little raw. “At least then I could stay awake for four hours without <em>collapsing of fatigue</em>—”</p><p>Jaemin remembers, with sudden clarity, Jisung’s words from before: <em>the discontent will break your soul apart.</em></p><p>Is that what he had meant? That Jaemin would tire from unrequited love, would be wrung out by the possibilities of what could have been? That Jaemin would start to lose his grip on everything around him?</p><p>He can’t do this anymore. There’s no point in avoiding it, is there? In trying to preserve his friendship with Jeno, he had forgotten the most important thing about their relationship: being honest to each other.</p><p>Everything Jaemin has gone through over the past months has only further convinced him that eventually he’d have to confront the truth head on and deal with the repercussions. No matter how much he wants to avoid it, he knows that if he doesn’t confront his feelings soon, he’ll end up like some of the versions of him in other universes: regretful, distant, heartbroken.</p><p>“Jeno-yah,” Jaemin says decisively. “Jeno-yah.”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Jaemin swallows, forces himself to drag his gaze up from Jeno’s lips to his eyes. “I like you,” he says lightly, gently, like a feather floating in the breeze. He’s afraid that if he’s any more sincere than this, he’ll risk too much.</p><p>Jeno’s face goes through a multitude of different facial expressions, shifting and settling onto something hardened and unreadable.</p><p>“No, you don’t,” Jeno says quietly.</p><p>“I’ve liked you for so long, Jeno-yah,” Jaemin continues. His fingernails bite into the skin of his palm, digging in to tether him to the moment. “I think that’s why I can’t sleep anymore, it’s bothering me so much.”</p><p>“You can’t just,” Jeno begins, pausing. He looks down at his lap, facial expression hidden. “You can’t just — I — you —”</p><p>“Are you mad?” Jaemin asks. Please don’t be mad, he thinks.</p><p>Jeno laughs, and it sounds a little wet. “Of course I’m angry, Jaemin-ah.”</p><p>“What?” Jaemin scrambles for damage control. “I mean — I promise I’ll get over it, I just needed to tell you, otherwise,” he swallows, “I don’t know what could’ve happened. I would’ve spent my life <em>wondering</em> about it. I’m sorry, I know we just got back to being friends—”</p><p>“Don’t.” Jeno looks at him, now, a little teary eyed.</p><p>Jaemin knows that Jeno <em>doesn’t</em> cry, doesn’t really get emotional like that. Except: <em>the day they told us you wouldn’t be coming back, I cried.</em></p><p>Maybe, just maybe, Jaemin has a chance.</p><p>“Don’t,” Jeno repeats, wiping at his eyes hastily. “Don’t get over it.”</p><p>Jaemin understands, now.</p><p>He’s read confession scenes in books, watched them in the movies, but all the stories in the world can’t compare to the sense of relief and happiness that he feels in this moment. It’s overwhelming and mundane and messy and wonderful.</p><p>“Okay,” Jaemin replies lowly. He leans forward to hug Jeno, breathing in deeply as he smells Jeno’s scent, his clean-laundry smell layered with nervous sweat. They’re cheek to cheek now, breaths so close they’re almost intermingled.</p><p>“I won’t get over it, Jeno-yah,” Jaemin whispers into his shoulder. His hand strokes along Jeno back, trying to provide a familiar comfort.</p><p>“That month,” Jeno whispers. “When I was ignoring you. I was just trying to stop liking you. God, I don’t even know, I can’t—” He starts crying in earnest.</p><p>Jaemin doesn’t move, just keeps holding on to him the best he can. And if he wets the shoulder of Jeno’s shirt with his tears, well, it’s no big deal.</p><p>Now, he has Jeno by his side.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>“Did you really have that much trouble sleeping?” Jeno’s toweling his hair dry, already dressed in his pajamas. Jaemin’s waiting for Jeno to join him on the bed.</p><p>They probably shouldn’t be doing this, but Jisung knows how to keep a secret, especially if it’s just for one night. And Jaemin really needs this, even if it’s just once.</p><p>“Yeah, I did.” Jaemin watches as Jeno sets his towel aside and begins running his fingers through his damp hair, flattening it down until it looks neat. “Your hair looks fine, Jeno-yah.”</p><p>Jeno blushes but doesn’t stop for a couple more moments. “I do this every night.”</p><p>Not from what Jaemin remembers of rooming with Jeno in the past, but then again, it’s been a while. And they’re both clearly a little nervous.</p><p>“I was saying,” Jeno continues, biting down on his lower lip, “if you haven’t been getting enough sleep, are you sure it’s a good idea to share with me?”</p><p>“Hmm? What are you trying to imply?” Jaemin returns.</p><p>“I mean,” Jeno turns away from the mirror, considering Jaemin seriously. “Do you think we’d get a lot of <em>sleep</em>?”</p><p>Now it’s Jaemin’s turn to flush. “Maybe not,” he admits, raking his eyes over Jeno’s body. Now that he can — that he has implicit permission to fully <em>look</em> at Jeno and savor what a sight he is — he’s been taking it in as much as he can. “But I still want to, at least once.”</p><p>“Alright,” Jeno says. He turns off the lights and pads over to Jaemin’s bed. It takes a couple of moments to adjust to the darkness, but he begins to make out the faint outlines of Jeno tiptoeing closer to him.</p><p>“Hey,” Jeno breathes, sitting beside Jaemin on the bed. His eyes are still beautiful, even in the shadows.</p><p>“Hey,” Jaemin echoes back, feeling a little stupid in the head. He can feel Jeno coming closer, closer, and he doesn’t do anything besides wait.</p><p>Their kiss is hesitant, almost delicate, and Jaemin is the first to break away.</p><p>“Jeno-yah,” Jaemin says, no louder than a whisper. He places a hand on Jeno’s shoulder, feeling the way it vibrates under his touch. “You’re trembling.”</p><p>“I can’t help it,” Jeno replies, sounding a little frustrated. “I’m just nervous —”</p><p>Jaemin leans in again, cutting him off with another kiss. It doesn’t take long for Jeno’s body to stop fluttering like a leaf in the breeze. Instead, as Jaemin’s hands roam across his body, he feels as sturdy and strong as a tree.</p><p>Even if Jaemin has met several different versions of Jeno, all of them charming and magnetic, nothing compares to this Jeno, <em>his</em> Jeno. Nothing compares to the two of them together, gradually becoming more at ease and learning each other’s bodies at their own pace.</p><p>Jeno ends up being right; they don’t get a lot of sleep that night. But, there’s still one good thing about the scant amount of rest Jaemin <em>does</em> get:</p><p>When he finally falls asleep, he doesn’t dream.</p><p> </p><p>—</p><p> </p><p>(“Jisung-ah,” Doyoung’s voice through the phone sounds like a screech. “You’re telling me you cast <em>what</em> on Jaemin and Jeno?”</p><p>“Hyung, it’s just a classic conflict-resolving spell,” Jisung says. “I don’t understand where it went wrong, Jaemin’s <em>still</em> having those dreams—”</p><p>“Yah,” Doyoung interrupts. He sighs, sounding world-weary. Jisung can almost imagine him rubbing his temples in irritation. “Jisung-ah, promise me you’ll <em>never</em> try to pull this shit again, okay?”</p><p>“But I’m an adult now,” Jisung argues. “You can’t control my magic anymore.”</p><p>“But you need to be <em>responsible,</em>” Doyoung emphasizes. “Not — not meddling in other people’s friendships, okay?”</p><p>“That spell,” Doyoung continues. “It involves both of their <em>souls.</em> Sure, it’ll resolve conflicts, but it won’t wear off until <em>every</em> issue within them has been dealt with.”</p><p>“Are you saying that there’s something they’re still hiding from each other?” Jisung asks, dubious. “They seem to be getting along a lot better recently.”</p><p>Doyoung sighs again. “I have my own guesses, but it’s really none of your business,” he says. “Just promise no more messing around, okay? They’ve already been through enough, the two of them.”</p><p>“Okay,” Jisung mumbles. “I promise, hyung.”)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you so much for everyone who read over parts of this fic (<a href="https://twitter.com/sesunmii">x</a>,<a href="https://twitter.com/daisy_tyong">x</a>,<a href="https://twitter.com/sunburstjeo">x</a>,<a href="https://twitter.com/nononomin_">x</a>) &amp; talked to me about it! i can't believe i've been working on this for the past 4 weeks [it feels surreal] !! comments &amp; kudos are appreciated~</p><p> <a href="http://twitter.com/storyboxed">twt</a> + <a href="http://curiouscat.qa/axiomatic">cc</a> + <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0MBgjXIePjkZWeY4KZ5vZS?si=DsLanr1VRAqio9s2KpJvwQ">playlist!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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